Paris Nights, New York Mornings
by ausland
Summary: Two years ago, Hermione Granger left her demons in London, escaping to an unintentionally glamorous life- one that still wasn't all rainbows and sunshine. Haunted by memories and the lasting effects of the Cruciatus Curse, Hermione returns to London- and Harry. While healing, will she find love with her best friend? H/Hr Beware- a bit deeper than your typical model stories.
1. Chapter 1

**Here is the first chapter of a story idea I got weeks ago. I only have this chapter written, and a few scattered ideas. If I get a good response, expect more. If I don't, expect more, but slowly. I have one other story in the works right now, and _The Winds of Time_ is the current priority.**

**INFO: This is not meant for die hard Canon people, even though DH happens, with a few changes. It will be a H/Hr ship, with a different Harry and Hermione. They have changed. Simple. This is not a realistic situation at all. Hermione leaves, becomes a model, returns. NOTE: The model part DOES NOT feature heavily. It was just a reason for the Prophet to track her, as well as a way for Hermione to get money. And shock the Wizarding World. This is a story based on the song, _Paris Nights, New York Mornings_ by the amazing singer, Corinne Bailey Rae. That song touched my heart, filling my head with images of a fashionable life in the heart of Paris, and New York. Having been to both these places made this very vivid for me. My fingers itched, and out popped this baby. **

**Changes: Hermione never kissed Ron. And she was held by Bellatrix for two days while they tortured her, as Dobby refused to let 'The Great Harry Potter' face the 'Evil Malfoys' and grabbed him and Ron before they could leave. Then Harry and Ron got Dobby, (who did not die) and rescued her. During the rescue, Harry disarmed Draco, making him the true owner of the wand. Hermione was very changed by this. In the tent after Ron left, the little dancing scene from the movie happened, with them dancing until they were too tired, and falling asleep in each other's arms, then waking up and not mentioning it. More will be revealed later. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. J K Rowling does. End of story. I just play around with her characters. I do not own _Paris Nights, New York Mornings._ Corinne Bailey Rae probably does.**

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><p><em>Breakfast at Mickey's<em>  
><em>Make up still on<em>  
><em>Elbows on the greasy tablecloth<em>  
><em>One more coffee and one last cigarette<em>

_Smiling at the rain 'cause you hold me close_  
><em>My best dress on underneath this old coat<em>  
><em>Walkin' down Bleckers, no one is awake yet<em>

_I know in seven hours_  
><em>Nothing but clouds<em>  
><em>It's enough to make your heart sigh<em>  
><em>Though we should try<em>  
><em>Pick me up, and take me out!<em>

_Oo we crash into love-filled nights_  
><em>(Paris nights and New York mornings)<em>  
><em>Oo we race till we're out of time<em>  
><em>(Paris nights and New York mornings)<em>  
><em>And now that you?ve taken me up so high<em>  
><em>(Paris nights and New York mornings)<em>  
><em>Don't let me down<em>  
><em>Don't let me down<em>

_I could see the lights from the restaurant_  
><em>I couldn't quite perfect that nonchalance<em>  
><em>Paris and champagne with one brown sugar cube<em>

_And we danced while the band played 'She's not there'_  
><em>Kissed me in the rain by the Rue Voltaire<em>  
><em>It's a perfectly good way to ruin those silk shoes<em>

_Still, seven hours_  
><em>Nothing but clouds<em>  
><em>It's enough to make your heart sigh<em>  
><em>We should try<em>  
><em>For each other and for the lovers<em>

_Oo we crash into love-filled nights_  
><em>(Paris nights and New York mornings)<em>  
><em>Oo we race till we're out of time<em>  
><em>(Paris nights and New York mornings)<em>  
><em>And now that you've taken me up so high<em>  
><em>(Paris nights and New York mornings)<em>  
><em>Don't let me down<em>  
><em>Don't let me down<em>

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><p><em><strong>The Daily Prophet<br>June 1st, 1998**_

_**HERMIONE GRANGER LEAVES ENGLAND!**_

_As of yesterday, it was confirmed that Hermione Granger has left Wizarding England! Why has she done so, and where has she gone? Special Correspondant Rita Skeeter is going to find out!_

_Our favorite brainy bookworm, mastermind behind the fateful Horcrux Hunt, and Hero of the Second Rising has picked up and left her flat in London empty, quit her job at the Ministry, and emptied half her Gringott's vault. She has disappeared without a trace, with friends close mouthed about where she went._

_"She needed to get away. She needs to heal. After what Bellatrix did to her, after what she went through at the hands of everyone in the Wizarding World, she just needed to get away. That is all I'm gonna say," says Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, and more recently, the Man-Who-Conquered. "Everyone who needs to know where she is, knows."_

_"Hermione? Hermione's gone?" Was the only thing that came out of Ronald Weasley's mouth when we asked him. Apparently, Miss Granger did not see fit to inform her long time friend where she went. We can only ask, who other that Harry Potter knows where the mysterious Hermione Granger is?_

_Both Luna Lovegood and Neville Longbottom refused to comment._

_Anyone with any information, please contact _The Daily Prophet _or Rita Skeeter. _

**_The Daily Prophet  
>June 12, 1998<em>**

_**Hermione Granger- Found At Last!**_

_We have finally located the elusive Miss Granger, special corespondent Rita Skeeter writes. The delectable Miss Granger found by a Mrs. Holly Rivers, of Hogsmeade._

_"I am muggle-born, and American, so imagine my surprise when I was looking at the most recent tabaloids from the States and found Miss Grangers picture scattered across the pages. The girl certainly lives life to the fullest," says Mrs. Rivers._

_We at The Daily Prophet did a bit of investigation, and found that Miss Granger currently resides in Los Angles, California, in the United States of America. After reading the article, we can certainly agree with Mrs. Rivers. Miss Granger is living her life to the fullest, partying hard and working harder._

_But what work is she doing?_

_Why, my dear readers, she is modeling. Most of you remember Hermione Granger and a bushy haired, buck toothed, and slightly chubby girl. Well, that Miss Granger is far in the past. The Miss Granger of the present has all three of the S's. _

_She is slim, sexy, and stunning. _

_During the Horcrux Hunt, Miss Granger lost a lot of weight. And boy are we appreciating the results. Where was she hiding that great body? As for the teeth and hair, they are in the past as well. In her fourth year, Hermione Granger was hexed in the face, and her teeth were fixed for her by Madam Poppy Pomfrey. And her hair is now a delicious mess of ringlets and curls, or as the magazine from the States put it, "Sex hair."_

_When showed the pictures of Miss Granger, Harry Potter responded. "No. I'm not surprised, I knew what she looked like. We've been friends since our first year at Hogwarts. Why should I be surprised? Hermione is gorgeous, I knew that. Those who couldn't see past her love of learning, well, screw them. They missed out."_

_We at the Prophet are wondering, did Mr. Potter miss out?_

_When the pictures were shown to Ronald Weasley, he almost had a heart attack. "That is Hermione Granger? No way," was the only thing he said. It seems like our brainy and beautiful bookworm didn't see fit to share everything with her other 'best friend'..._

_When asked what Hermione would want, Harry Potter, Saviour of the Wizarding World responded, "Leave her alone. Do not contact her. If she wants to come back, she will. If you continue to badger her, she won't because she is stubborn like that."_

_Hermione Granger is also working as an assistant at a local bookstore, modeling on her off time._

_The Daily Prophet has agreed to a deal with Mr. Potter. We will be allowed to track Miss Granger, a__s long as we do not reveal ourselves, or try and contact her. So subscribe to the Daily Prophet for your weekly "Granger Update."_

**_The Daily Prophet  
>August 7, 1998<em>**

_Hermione Granger was spotted today leaving the house of a famous American actor, who shall remained unnamed. After partying hard in L.A. she returned to the house of the man she was seen dancing with at an exclusive club. What is our heroine doing?_

_Her wardrobe is full of the latest California styles, and she spends her days at the beach. She is having fun and soaking up sun in the USA!_

**_The Daily Propht  
>August 14, 1998<em>**

_Hermione Granger left L.A. this morning, on a Muggle aeroplane (metal bird Muggles fly in) to Paris, France. She left behind several broken hearted boys at the aeroport (places where the metal birds land, like an owlery) , giving each one a kiss on the cheek. _

_When asked about Miss Granger, one said, "That girl is the scariest thing I have ever seen. Ever. She has beauty, but doesn't know it. She has brains, and does know about them, and uses them far too much. She parties hard, but never gets drunk. She has morals, which is rare here. She's - well, she's perfect."_

**_The Daily Prophet  
>August 21, 1998<em>**

_After a week in Paris, Hermione Granger has already wreaked havoc. She wears the latest muggle fashions, has a lovely job at a small modeling company, and has befriended many in the upper echelons of Paris society, Muggle and Wizarding. She is also working at another small bookstore, much like her job in L.A._

_She uses a fake name, and dares anyone to disprove it. And best of all, she has a beau!_

_His name is Jean-Baptiste Dumont, and he is her ticket to fame. A rich and handsome bloke, he takes her to romantic dinners at the Effiel Tower, on long walks on the Champs-Elysee's. _

_Did we mention he is rich and handsome?_

**_The Daily Prophet  
>August 28, 1998<em>**

_Hermione has left Paris! She is now in New York City, with job unknown. We are guessing another bookstore and modeling. _

_Will she be back in time for the reopening of Hogwarts? Or will she remain traveling, living life in the fast lane?_

**_The Daily Prophet  
>September 4, 1998<em>**

_Hermione is not back in England yet. According to Mr. Potter, "I told you she wouldn't. She is recovering. She is having fun, and living life. If she wants to do so, that is fine with me. She'll come back when she is ready!"_

_Apparently, Miss Granger left the wonderful Jean-Baptiste is Paris, with no promises. She has started work at the sister company of the modeling company she worked for in Paris, and everyone loves her. She walks in high circles, attending balls in elegant and chic dresses, and partying hard at popular clubs, then going to a Mum-and-Pop bookstore to work in the mornings. How does the girl to this?_

_And recently, she has been seen with a ruggedly handsome Jonathan King. What is she going to do next?_

**_The Daily Prophet  
>September 11, 1998<em>**

_Well, well, well. Miss Granger hit it big on September 7, 1998. She modeled for one picture in a magazine, and suddenly everyone wants to know who a Miss Lily Black is. When asked to comment on Hermione's alias, Mr. Potter says, "I know. We spent about a hour coming up with possible names before she left. I wanted her to use either 'Potter' or 'Evans' as her surname, but she didn't want to dishonor my mother's memory. So I offered to put her under the protection of the Black family instead. She accepted."_

_When asked, Draco Malfoy, Death Eater turned good, said, "She is a muggleborn, using a pureblood name. A beautiful muggleborn, but still a muggleborn. I cannot approve."_

_It seems that Miss Granger, or should we say Miss Black, is being flooded by the waves of fortune. We at the Daily Prophet wish her luck!_

**_The Daily Prophet  
>September 18, 1998<em>**

_Lily Black, a.k.a. Hermione Granger, is still living in New York, although she went to Paris this week for a modeling job. She is living large and having fun, seeing both Jean-Baptiste and Jonathan. When asked, Mr. King said, "Lily. God she is an amazing woman. I would love it if there was something romantic between us. We have gone on a few dates. I know she has men waiting on her everywhere from L.A. to Paris. She doesn't like leading people on, though, and about one week into our relationship, she told me it would never work, but she wanted to be my friend. I'll take what I can get where Lily is concerned."_

_This reporter asked Jean-Baptiste what he thought of the woman he knows as Lily Black. His response was, "She is the perfect woman. Sweet, smart, and sexy. When I met her, I asked her what she was running from. She smiled and said, 'life.' I asked her if she wanted to have lunch. She said yes. Five days later, she started crying and told me that she couldn't do this. The life she was running from did something to her. Something that makes her live everyday as if it was her last. I wish I know who hurt her. I wish to kill them." _

_Apparently, both men are only friends, who nonetheless want something more. What has Miss Granger gotten herself into?_

**_The Daily Prophet  
>September 25, 1998<em>**

_This will be the last week when you get to hear exactly what Miss Granger has been up to. She encountered a renowned reporter, Rita Skeeter, in Paris this weekend interviewing Jean-Baptiste. This was her reaction when she walked up to them._

_"Skeeter. What the bloody hell are you doing here?" Miss Granger hissed._

_"My, my. Hermione, or is it Lily now?" Was Rita Skeeter's reply._

_"It is Lily now. I want you to stay the hell out of my life. I want to be left alone!" After this statement, Miss Granger began crying heavily, and was embraced by Jean Baptiste. They had a brief conversation in French, before Jean-Baptiste called a cab for Miss Granger, sending her to his apartment in the heart of the city. He then told our reporter in no uncertain terms that he would never talk with her again. His last comment to the Daily Prophet was,_

_"And go back to England and tell all the people there: If she was so important to you, why did you let her go? And why did you hurt her in the first place?"_

_Goodbye, and farewell faithful readers._

**_The Daily Prophet  
>August 23, 2000<em>**

_After almost two years of living like a muggle in various cities around the world, our very own War Hero, Miss Hermione Granger is back in Wizarding London!_

_She has lived in Paris, in New York, in Los Angles, in Rome, in Venice, in Florence, in Berlin, in Moscow, in Amsterdam, in Tokyo, in Madrid. And now, in London, where she has purchased a flat._

_She has modeled in nearly all these places, accumulating a small fortune that, at the brink of twenty-one years of age, will allow her to live comfortably all her life. _

_She has unknowlingly left a lovesick man in nearly every place she has been._

_She has been called a freak, a bookworm, a hero, a beauty, a model. _

_She is Hermione Granger, also known as Lily Black. _

_What has she been doing all these years? Why did she leave? Why did she come back? All these questions and more will be answered in an exclusive interview, to be published in a special addition next week. While you wait, enjoy the pictures we managed to snap of Miss Granger during her long vacation!_

_Picture 1: Shows Miss Granger at Mickey's in New York, notorious for their greasy tablecloths. Nursing a small coffee, it is obvious she is waiting for someone very early in the morning. Is that makeup on your face, Miss Granger?_

_Picture 2: Miss Granger and beau Jonathan King together in the rain. Under the worn grey coat she is wearing, we were surprised to see a beautiful dress. Kudos to you for great fashion sense!_

_Picture 3: Miss Granger, at a lovely Paris restaurant, sipping champagne and being a fed a sugar cube by Jean-Baptiste Dumont. She hasn't quite perfected that expression of nonchalance that the rest of the clientele have. We think it gives her an sense of life and fun, don't you? By the way, love the green dress._

_Picture 4: Hermione and Jean-Baptiste dance together as the band plays, "She's Not There." We in England remember Miss Granger at the Yule Ball in her fourth year, when she attended with Vikor Krum, international Quidditch Superstar._

_Picture 5: Miss Granger being kissed in the rain by beau Jean-Baptiste Dumont, by the Rue Voltaire. If anything, it was a perfectly good way to ruin those good silk shoes._

_Picture 6: The photo that made Miss Granger, or, rather, Lily Black, famous. Need we say more?_

_That is all for today, so check back with us next week for that exclusive interview!_

Harry finished reading the paper out loud, setting it down with an unreadable expression on his face. "Do you guys want to see the pictures?"

Heads bobbed up and down, and the newspaper was passed around.

The first picture was one of Hermione, elbows on the table with a small coffee in front of her, while she stared out the window. it showed her in profile, and she looked lovely with the early sunrise illuminating her features. The picture blinked, then sighed, still looking out into the distance.

The second picture was Hermione and a tall man under a large umbrella, pressed together and laughing. She was wearing a grey coat, that flew open with a gust of wind revealing a stylish dress that shocked Harry. He had never seen her wear anything like that, or be with a man quite like Jonathan, who was tall, with strong features, black hair that was almost blue, and sapphire eyes.

The third picture had Hermione accepting a sugar cube from the delicate fingers of a handsome man with an aristocratic grace that was eerily similar to Draco Malfoy. She giggled, and took a sip of champagne. She had an expression of delight on her face, although it looked like she was trying to hide it. The other patrons in the picture had turned their heads and smiled when they heard her laughter.

The fourth picture made Harry smile a bit. He did remember the Yule Ball, and the expression of relaxation and contentment on Hermione's face made him think that maybe she did too, twirling around the dance floor.

The fifth picture however, made Harry uneasy. She and the man were standing in front of a small street, and he bent down to kiss her. The rain was falling around them, and Hermione was blushing red despite the cold.

The last photo, the sixth, made his breath catch. Hermione was in a dark blue sun dress, it was long, going past her knees. The top had straps for her shoulders, and made a nice V-neck, or so Harry thought. It clung to her curves, showing off her flat stomach and strong arms. She was smiling, prettily, and had a hint of a flush on her cheeks. Her head full of curls was fluttering in a paused breeze, as the picture was a Muggle one. She had one hand up, pushing the hair out of her face, and the other down by her side. She was barefoot, and in what Harry suspected was Central Park. Her honey eyes were sparkling, and her entire body seemed full of life. He could see how this would make her famous.

"When is the interview comming out, Harry?" asked Luna. "That would be interesting to read."

Harry checked the paper once more, then responded. "Tomorrow."

"Is everything read for the 'Welcome Home!' party, Harry?"

Harry nodded. "Yep. Although I don't see why you lot want to do this. She's been home for a week. Neville and I visited to help her get her flat in order."

Mrs. Weasley smiled softly and ruffled Harry's hair. "We haven't see the girl for two years. Of course we want to give her a Welcome party."

From the crowded kitchen of Number Twelve, Grimauld Place, everyone could hear the doorbell ring. Harry smiled, and stood fast. "I'll get her. You lot get in the sitting room."

He left quickly, and group in the kitchen made the exodus to the sitting room, decorated for Hermione's party.

Harry opened the door to the rainy London sky, welcoming the woman who stood on the doorstep with a hug. "Mione," he breathed. "Everyone is in the sitting room."

Hermione grinned up at him, handing him her umbrella as she slipped off her coat. "Then we shouldn't keep them waiting, right darling?" The use of pet names was a private joke of theirs, dating back to fourth year when everyone had though they were a couple.

Harry grinned back, making use of the troll leg umbrella holder. "Of course, love." He let his eyes run down her form, and lifted his eyebrows. "Don't you look nice."

The girl from two years ago never wore designer clothes, or make up, or high heels. The woman of today did, and pulled everything off wonderfully. "Thank you, Harry. Ready?"

Harry offered her his arm, which she accepted. "I am, are you?"

Hermione sighed. "I don't know. I've missed everybody, yes. But am I ready to face them? No. I shouldn't have run away. It wasn't very Gryffindor of me."

Harry frowned at the look on her face, pulling her into a hug. "Hey. There now. Don't you dare start crying. We all had ways to deal with our problems. You needed some time away. That's all."

Hermione smiled up at him. "Thank you, Harry. Now let's go shock some Weasleys."

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><p><strong>What do you think? Please leave a review.<strong>

**Please note that I may not update for a long time. Encourage me to do the opposite. Check out my other stories. If you are a visitor from TWoT, let me know. **

**Thank you for reading!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two! Thank you to those who reviewed. Enjoy this chapter, and look forward to the next.**

**Hope you enjoy, and questions, ask in a review, and will answer in the story. Sorry, but I do not PM, or respond to reviews. My parent's rules for letting me stay on the site.**

**Read and tell me your thoughts!**

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><p>As Harry and Hermione entered the room, the conversation fell quiet. Hermione gazed at the crowd of people who had come to welcome her home, and was humbled. The survivors of the Order, her friends from Hogwarts, and some people she didn't know. All the Weasleys, their girlfriends, (including Verity and Penelope) and in Ginny's case, a boyfriend (Dean Thomas). Lavender and Parvati were there, as well as some of the people she had worked with after the Final Battle. McGonagall and Flitwick were there, as was Kingsley and Bill and Fleur. Fleur was holding a baby, a little girl with a head of silver hair. Luna and Neville were together, Luna sporting a large baby bump.<p>

For a moment, the they just looked at Hermione, whose arm was still threaded through Harry's. Then they burst in to chatter, coming forward to hug her and welcome her. Luna was the first to come give Hermione a hug, followed by Neville. Then came her former Professors, then the Weasleys, then the Order.

Finally everyone had given their words of welcome. Molly Weasley had prepared a buffet of fingerfoods people could eat while moving around. Almost everyone was having a good time, and Hermione was surrounded by girls.

"I didn't believe it until I saw the pictures, Hermione. I mean, you, a model?" giggled Lavender. "I mean, we shared a dorm for six years and I never realized that you were actually pretty. How did you start modeling?"

Hermione lifted one eyebrow, giving Lavender a look of pure disgust. "I was at a club with one of my friends. They said they needed an extra model for a shoot they were doing. She asked me to come with her, because I was the only person she knew that could fit into the clothes the sick model had left with out needed to fit them. I went, they loved me. End of story." She turned away, but was blocked the other girl she used to share a dorm with.

Parvati ran an appriacative eye over Hermione's dress. It had sleeves down a few inches past her elbows, a deep V-neck, and a skirt that fell to her knees. It was a deep purple-red, and hugged Hermione's curves. More-than-modest heels elevated the petite girl, giving her a commanding aura. Her make up was perfect, and her hair was pulled back into a large bun at the back of her head that was giving off small curls. It was bound by a gold clip, one that matched her other jewelry. Jewelry that included a huge diamond pendant on her necklace. When did Hermione start wearing diamond jewelry? She looked effortlessly beautiful, enough to make both girls jealous.

"You look nice," she remarked casually. "Is that a designer?"

Hermione nodded. "Yes. My wardrobe has improved considerably since I was sixteen."

A deep voice from behind her chuckled. "Your wardrobe among other things, Hermione Granger." Hermione turned, a slow smile spreading across her face.

"Well. If it isn't George Weasley." The tall, red headed prankster pulled Hermione into a hug. "Long time, no see."

George planted a kiss on Hermione's forehead. "I've missed you, Hermione. I can't believe it has been two years."

Hermione gave a weary half smile. "I know. Everyone has changed so much in two years."

George began to lead her through to crowd to the refreshment table. As soon as they were out of hearing range, George gave Hermione a crooked smile. "It looked like you needed to get away from those vapid girls."

Hermione gave him an appreciative smile. "I did. I hadn't realized that their IQ didn't increase with their breast size."

George let out a belly laugh, shocking those around him. "I hadn't realized Hermione Granger could say the word 'breast' without blushing."

Hermione laughed too. "After someone has taken photos of you in nothing but a skimpy bra and panty set, you can't blush about much. Or someone taking a picture of you kissing someone. Did you realize how many photo shoots require you to kiss someone fifty billion times?"

They laughed again, George getting Hermione a glass of wine. She took a look at the cup, and a dark look passed over her face. "No thanks, George. I don't drink."

George looked taken aback, but recovered with a smile. "No matter then. What do you want?"

Hermione frowned. "I haven't seen Ron yet. Where is he?"

George's face took on a shifty set. "Well, Hermione..."

Hermione sighed. "He didn't take me leaving too well did he?"

George shook his head. "Nope."

Hermione shook her head. "The nerve of that boy..." she muttered. "If you'll excuse me George, I need to go talk to someone."

George made an elaborate gesture with his arms. "Go right ahead, milady." Hermione laughed one more time, then left, weaving through the crowd.

She spotted the sulky red head in a chair by the wall. He was nursing a Firewhiskey, and looked like he was muttering grumpily to himself. Hermione sighed. She had seen that look before.

"Ron."

He glanced up, then looked away. "What do you want, Miss Rich and Famous?"

Hermione glared. "I want you to stop the pity party. Get your head out of your arse and stop shaming your family. It's been two years. I would have thought that would have grown up by now."

Ron glared back. "You didn't tell me you were going to leave."

Hermione nodded. "Yes. You would have told me not to go."

"Of course I would have! You belong here, not in America!" Ron protested, leaping to his feet.

Hermione shook her head sadly. "And that's the reason I didn't tell you. When you finish the rectal surgery, we can talk again."

Neville intercepted Hermione halfway to the buffet table. "Didn't George tell you to stay away from Ron?" he asked, eyes filled with amusement. He had heard her last comment.

Hermione gave her old friend a crooked grin, one that had been featured in many magazines in the States. "Since when do I listen to George?"

"Or anyone else for that matter," said Harry, throwing an arm around Hermione's shoulders. "Hermione Granger, brightest witch of the age. She can do no wrong!"

The three burst out laughing. Ginny walked up to the three, frowning slightly at the location of Harry's arm. "What's so funny?" she asked, stepping forward to give Hermione another hug and forcing Harry to remove his arm.

Hermione pouted, red lips filling and defined brown eyes widening. Ginny was shocked to see how beautiful Hermione looked, and was shocked when Harry groaned. "Harry's teasing me," she explained to the witch. "I've only been back for a few days and he already is making my life miserable."

Everyone laughed again, including Ginny this time. The lifting of Hermione's chest made the diamond adorning it sparkle, and Ginny gasped. "Hermione! Is that necklace real?"

Hermione looked confused for a moment, lifting the necklace up. "Of course," she said. "Why wouldn't it be?"

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Because that thing is bloody ginormous."

Hermione shrugged. "Jean-Baptiste gave it to me last year, for my birthday. Did the paper say anything about him? I caught that awful Skeeter woman talking with him once, but he wouldn't say anything about it. And then she mentioned him in my interview."

Ginny shook her head. "Only that he is rich and handsome." She had seen that picture of him, too. If she was Hermione, she would have stayed with him.

"And he takes you to dinner on the Eiffel Tower," Harry added. Inside, he was scowling. Stupid man and stupid French monument that made girls go gaga.

"And that he kisses you in the rain," Neville finished.

Hermione blushed. "That. How did they know?"

"There's a picture," Neville said, grinning evilly.

George walked up, still holding the wine. He looked at Hermione, and then at the people around her. "Okay," he said, eyes bright. "Who made her blush?"

The rest of the party was very fun for everyone, even if they were shocked to see the 'new' Hermione. She was the center of everyone's attention, both good and bad.

"You haven't been eating! We need to fatten you up, my dear." The Weasley matriarch was sure to try and stuff Hermione full of food the next time she was at the Burrow. Hermione made a mental note to stay away for a while.

Fleur was happy to see Hermione, having bonded with her in the weeks she had spent recovering at the Burrow before she and boys robbed Gringotts. The two chatted in French for almost fifteen minutes, while the rest of the room pretended they understood. Hermione cooed over the baby, and the women spent some time reminiscing over Paris.

Luna and Neville were happy to see her as well, Luna having received an apology from Hermione when she had actually seen a Crumple Horned Snornack in Sweden. After some misunderstandings were cleared up, the two girls had become fast friends.

The party went on long past midnight, with Hermione finally making her excuses and leaving at half past one. She and Harry Apparated to an alley near her flat, Harry walking her up to the door.

"Do you want to come in?" she asked, unlocking the door.

Harry smiled and nodded, before realizing he was behind her and she couldn't see him. "Sure."

They stepped into the flat, and Harry whistled. "Wow. Nice place, 'Mione."

She laughed. "You've been here before."

He nodded solemnly. "And it is still a nice place."

Hermione placed her bag on a small table, and took his cloak. "Do you want anything to drink?"

Harry stiffened for a moment, then shook his head. "No. I don't drink."

Hermione's forehead scrunched up, then understanding dawned on her face. "You were under the Cruciatus too."

Harry gave a bitter grin. "Right in one," he agreed. Then it was his turn to think. "How did you know about that?"

Hermione matched his expression. "I didn't spend the two days at Malfoy Manor painting Bella's nails and having Narcissa braiding my hair." Her expression softened, and she walked over to him, putting a hand on his arm. "I learned what to do. Do you know everything?"

Harry nodded. "I think I do. No alcohol, don't eat too much, don't get dehydrated, exercise when possible, and when the cramps start hit them really hard."

Hermione smiled gently. "Did you learn the hard way like I did?"

He nodded. "Yep. Least fun year of my life figuring out what would put me under for a day or two. I put some people on it. The leftovers only happen if under the Curse for more than an equivalent of two hours. The lucky ones go crazy, the god-damned deal with worsening affects the rest of their lives," he said quietly. "But then," his mouth turned into a cruel parody of a smile, "when have we been lucky?"

Hermione let out a bitter laugh. "Tea?"

"Yes, please." Harry watched as Hermione slid off her high heels, padding off the kitchen. "How do you not kill yourself in those things?" he called, shaking his head in disbelief.

"Not that hard," Hermione's replied. "Balance and experience."

When she returned with the tea set, she found Harry flipping through a heavy tome she had left on the coffee table. "Going through my stuff, Harry?"

Harry looked up, startled. "Of course not, Hermione. What is this?"

She glanced at the cover, and shrugged. "A little light reading," she admitted.

Harry gaped at her. "Hermione. This things weighs at least seven pounds. It is the size of a baby."

Hermione put her hands on her hips. "I happen to like reading books the size of babies." A slight shadow passed over her face at the last word, but Hermione shook it off.

However, Harry had not been her friend for almost ten years for nothing. "What's wrong?" he asked. "Did I say something..."

She nodded, not meeting his eyes. "Not really. I've gotten over it."

Harry's eyes narrowed. "Gotten over what?" What had he said that had made her sad? Books, pounds, babies! Could she be- no. Not Hermione. "Babies? Hermione are you-"

Hermione shook her head, tears welling in her eyes. "I think I may be infertile because of the Curse. I haven't gone to anyone to check, but all the research I've done suggests it."

Harry couldn't move, still frozen in shock. Hermione? Not be a mother? A sob ripped him from his thoughts and he crossed the room to the sofa where she had sunk down into to comfort her. "Oh, Hermione. It'll be okay, 'Mione. You don't know for sure."

Hermione looked up at him with watery eyes. "Did you know I used to play at being a mother when I was little? With dolls? And one day my baby doll start cooing and giggling. It was moving. That was my first accidental magic. After that my parents took away my dolls and only gave me books. I've always wanted to be a mother."

Harry pulled her into a hug. "We don't know for sure. I'll ask the people I have researching the effects of curse to check. I'm sure that isn't it."

Hermione nodded, but there was still fear in her eyes. "Yes. Of course. I'm sorry, Harry. I know it's stupid. That was one of the reasons I left, you know."

Harry looked at her surprised. "Really?"

She nodded. "Everyone was looking at Ron and me, hoping that we would get together, like they were doing for you and Ginny. And I had already done some research with Sirius' library, and I already suspected it. And I knew that Ron wanted a big family and a wife like his mother. And I couldn't be that. I didn't want that, or him. And-" Hermione stopped, and Harry stared.

"And what, Hermione?" he asked softly.

"And the man I wanted looked pretty involved with someone else. I knew he would probably never look at me as anything other than the bookworm. I couldn't take it anymore. I couldn't take all the people watching me. I couldn't take all the pain. All the memories," Hermione admitted. "I just wanted to get away from it all."

Harry grinned at her. "At least you didn't try turning to alcohol like I did. That was a painful morning."

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "What makes you think I didn't?"

Harry winced. "How bad was it?"

"Pretty bad. Worse than the time during the curse." Hermione had found that drinking all night lead to a very painful morning after. Alcohol irritated the injured nerves, causing the pain from the Cruciatus to return at full strength, taking twelve hours to fade away. As a result, Hermione never drank much.

She shook away to bad memories, focusing on the sensation of Harry holding her. She had been back to Europe in the dead of night a few times to visit him, and when he could he took missions to cities he knew she would be in. They had seen each other often in the two years she was away, and she was still the one he was closest too, and vice versa.

"Do you want to see an advance copy of the article that will be in tomorrow's Prophet?" she asked, looking for an excuse to do something. "I agreed to give them an interview because the alternative was having them follow me around for the rest of my life."

Nodding, Harry gestured to the hall. "Sure. Go get it."

Hermione put her hands on her hips and glared. "Harry James Potter."

Harry gulped, some part of his brain remembering that look on her face with painful tenderness. "Uh, yeah, never mind. I'll go get that interview now."

He got up, started walking, then realized he didn't know where the Prophet was. "Uh, Hermione? Where is it?"

She just laughed, waving at the chair to tell him to sit down. "I was teasing, silly. I'll get it." In a few moments she returned with the paper, a slight smile on her face.

"You know, I had forgotten that Rita Skeeter had no scruples what so ever. She portrays me as a glamorous star returning home, when six years ago I was a shameless hussy," she remarked casually. "It's surprising that the people here still believe what she writes." She gave the paper to Harry, moving the abandoned tissue box off the couch so she could read along with him.

Harry nodded. "Yeah. She's been writing that I'm engaged every week for a year now. As far as I know, that is yet to happen."

Hermione stiffened, and turned slowly, forcing herself to relax. "I didn't know you were seeing anyone, Harry," she said, hoping he wouldn't hear the pain in her voice. Why had he not confided in her?

Harry laughed, not noticing anything. "That's 'cause I'm not. Skeeter has me with a different girl every week." She let out a sigh of relief, laughing with him.

She snuggled up to his side, and he put an arm around her, just like old times. There was nothing in the gesture that told Hermione he wanted anything more than friendship, so she made an effort not to read into it. 'We are just friends,' she told herself, taking a moment to clear her head before examining the Daily Prophet.

_**The Daily Prophet  
>August 28, 2000<strong>_

_**Lily Black or Hermione Granger? The Exclusive Interview!**_

_When we were last with you, we promised an exclusive interview with Hermione Granger, also known as 'Lily Black.' We promised, and we delivered! Rita Skeeter interviews Hermione Granger, Heroine of the Second Rising, Order of Merlin First Class, and Mastermind of the Horcrux Hunt. _

_Ms. Granger and Ms. Skeeter met at The Three Broomsticks, were Ms. Granger was nursing a cup of coffee. As you can see in the picture, she is wearing a beautiful casual/formal cream blazer and skirt over a ruffled purple and gold top. She looks gorgous and put together- every hair in place, with tasteful makeup and jewelry. So different from the studious girl known at Hogwarts!_

_RS: So. Ms. Granger. How are you doing?_

_HG: Fine. It has been hectic settling back into life in London. _

_RS: Speaking of settling back, everyone is dying to know what made you return?_

_HG: Many things. I wanted to see my friends again, I wanted to get over some stuff. I was tired of running around the world, on plane for hours a week._

_RS: Only you could make running around the world seem boring. What were you doing?_

_HG: (laughing) Work. I had originally planned to just work in a bookstore, just for a few months, then come home. A friend of mine roped me into helping her for a photo shoot, and the next day I was offered a job. From there, I went to New York, and made it big. Since then, it's been plane after plane, hotel after hotel. Sounds fun, but you miss the real life._

_RS: And what about fun?_

_HG: (blushing) There was that too. I would go out drinking or partying with my co-workers. I met a few people through my job. Nothing special._

_RS: And your beaus?_

_HG: (scrunches forehead in confusion) What beaus?_

_RS: Jon King? Jean-Baptiste Dumont? Ring any bells?_

_HG: Oh, dear. No, we were just friends. We dated for a while, but it didn't work out. (shrugs)_

_RS: Why not? Is there someone else we should be looking at?_

_HG: Maybe. (smiles) There was someone I was half in love with for years that I left here. He actually one of the reasons I left. But he was happy to see me and available, so..._

_RS: So what?_

_HG: Who knows? I sure don't._

_RS: Now, tell me, Ms. Granger. What was the deal with the whole, "Lily Black" name?_

_HG: Well, when things hit it big, I still wanted to remain anonymous. So I ran to my best friend, freaking out. He calmed me down, and we sat down to figure out what to do. That boy is a life saver._

_RS: Harry Potter? He isn't much a boy anymore._

_HG: To me, he will always be the brave eleven year old who stuck his wand up a troll's nose for me._

_RS: So he is just like a brother to you? You don't even see the delectable man that boy became?_

_HG: I wouldn't say that. Harry has grown into an amazing man. He's the most important person in the world to me. _

_RS: That's sweet. What about Ronald Weasley?_

_HG: (winces) Ron. I'm hoping he will get over his immature- Can we talk about something else?_

_RS: Okay. What was it like being a model?_

_HG: Stressful. You have to stay the same weight, shape, height... You have to remain unchanging. And there are apparently rules you are supposed to follow. Like, not ordering a steak, but a salad. Or even better, a bottle of water. Thankfully I could get away for a few minutes and actually eat sometimes. And at the beginning, it was insanely embarrassing. _

_RS: Embarrassing? Please elaborate, Ms. Granger. _

_HG: Have you ever realised how many photo shoots have people kissing in them? I've had to kiss more people than I would have ever wanted. That the gods for Scorgify. And then modeling in a swimsuit? I had to glamour the scars I had from the war, the ones that never fully went away. The photographers thought I had some kind of miracle makeup. I didn't say anything against it._

_RS: Can you tell me how you feel about these pictures, or the stories behind them?_

_The first picture we asked Ms. Granger to speak about is the one below, right. It is the picture that made Hermione Granger famous._

_HG: That picture. It was fun, but I was really shy. It was only the second shot we took, and they were shocked at how well it came out. The wind was blowing just right, and the sun was in just the right position. I was surprised at how fast this became popular. The advert was for the sundress, and suddenly all the companies wanted me to promote their items. From then on it was a constant thing._

_RS: And this one?_

_This picture shows Hermione sitting on a fence, kissing a shirtless man. She is posing for an American brand, and wearing a cream camisole, a plaid flannel shirt, and jeans with boots. The man in the picture is only wearing jeans. It appears they are on a farm._

_HG: That was strange. It was supposed to be on a bag for the company. The reason they wanted me was because they saw the first picture. That was the first time I had kissed someone I was not romantically involved with. They got mad at me at first for blushing, but when they looked at all the pictures, they decided they liked the ones with me blushing most. Then word got around that I was naive and would blush easy. I got flooded with offers. _

_The next picture is one of Ms. Granger's face and hair for a hair advertisement. _

_RS: One more. This one?_

_HG: Hair and makeup commercial. They loved my hair and skin tone. So they washed my hair with this stuff that made it super easy to manage and curly, not bushy. I got them to give me twenty bottles. That is my favorite shampoo. Better than Sleakeazy's. _

_RS: Well, thank you for your time Ms. Granger. One last question: what do you want to do know?_

_HG: I will be working, either at Hogwarts or at St. Mungo's. I've gotten offers for both, and I have not decided yet. There were some other offers for curse-breaking and such, but that would be too much travel. I want to stay by those I consider my family._

_RS: No more modeling?_

_HG: No. I'm happy with what I've done. If someone wants me to __model for them, it had better be good. I've announced that I am not modeling anymore. If they have an offer anyway, then can direct it to my manager. I want to be normal. It was never my intention to be famous. I want to be the little know-it-all again._

_With that, the interview was concluded. Respecting her wishes, we will not be tracking Ms. Granger exclusively any more. However, if she does something news worthy, she is fair game! Purchase a subscription to keep up to date on today's news!_

Because of her late start, Hermione finished at around the same time Harry did. "What did you think?" she asked, looking at the pictures in the Wizarding paper. Dear Lord, that one of her kissing Jason made her look different. What in the world would Harry think?

"Interesting. Everyone is going to see this in tomorrow's paper," he replied. "And I still can't believe that is your hair."

"Stop it," she ordered, smacking him. "And it's today's paper. It's almost three in the morning." She cast a quick, "_Tempus_" to check the time, and gave a tired yawn as the date and time showed.

Harry stood. "I guess it's time for me to go."

Hermione wanted to tell him to stay, but was reluctant after crying all over his shoulder. "I guess. Sleep well, dearling."

"Always, love," he responded with a rakish grin. "See you later."

He cast a quick Silencer, and Apparated after giving Hermione a quick hug. She sighed, and walked into her bedroom. What she would do without her Harry...

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><p><strong>Love it? Hate it? Tell me. Thank you for the amazing response to the first chapter. Thank you to those who reviewed. <strong>

**If you want me to continue this, drop a review. The more reviews, the more motivation, the quicker I pump out another chapter. Suggestions and _polite and friendly_ criticism is welcome.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Hello? Anybody still there?**

**Well. I'm back, after an extended absence. (You are not allowed to get too loud with your protests: I told you guys this is not the story I'm focusing on at the moment. Plus I'm on vacation.)**

**To make a long story short, on Wednesday I saw the final Harry Potter movie, in 3-D. And, in French. That was an... let's call it an experience. I got to see two of my favorite and two of my liked characters die. And then I had to see Hermione and Ron kiss. And then I got to see them all grown up and married with two kids: one named _Hugo._ **

**I felt a need to make things right in my head. And here you go: Chapter 3!**

**Enjoy. (And forgive me for the liberties I took with the doorman. I was having fun with him.)**

* * *

><p>Hermione took a quick shower to wash away both the smell of the party and the memories of the evening. She slipped into her bed, and set an alarm for eight the next morning. She had a job interview  tea with Minerva tomorrow morning...

Sleep took hold of her the moment her head hit the pillow. But for Hermione, sleep wasn't the problem. The problem was the dreams.

_Bellatrix's face staring down at her, eyes wild with fury."TELL ME!" _

_Hermione groaned. "Yet another demand for the origins of the sword. Not very original, are you?" Her weak laugh choked, then turned into screams of pain._

_As she writhed on the floor of Malfoy Manor, screams ripped from her throat by the Torture Curse, Hermione smiled inwardly. Harry and Ron were safe. That was all that mattered._

_The Curse stopped, and Bella's face reappeared. "Where is Potter?"_

_Hermione spit at Bellatrix, some part of her mind worrying that she was spitting more blood than saliva. "I don't know. Must be all that dirty blood in my veins." _

_Bellatrix just wiped the bloody saliva off her face, and looked at it with disgust. "You will pay for tainting me with your mudblood, you filthy bitch. Cruico!"_

_The pain started again and all Hermione could think was that Harry and Ron were safe and that was all that mattered..._

Hermione bolted awake, the echos of her screams ringing in her ears and clogging her throat. Her heart was beating madly and her breathing was hard. She could feel painful shocks going through her body, an almost daily reminder of the horrors of the Cruciatus.

"Damn," she cursed. "And I thought being home would stop the dreams." She rose, looking at the bed in disgust. She had flung the covers off herself in her sleep, and the pillow was stained with blood.

Hermione put her fingers to her face, wincing when she touched her cheek. She must have bitten herself. "Why me?" she muttered. "Of all the perfectly lovely Death Eaters in the world, why was Bellatrix Lestrange the one who got to torture me?" She sighed and pulled her hair into a messy bun, frowning at the pain in her arms.

As she walked to the connecting bathroom, Hermione ran a hand through her now tangled curls. She splashed water on her face, gasping at the coldness. "Merlin, that's cold." She looked in the mirror and winced. The person staring back at her had a pale face, red-rimmed eyes, and wild hair. "Not only does she drive me crazy enough to start talking to myself," Hermione said tiredly, "But she also makes me lose my beauty sleep."

A quick _Tempus_ showed that it was nearing six in the morning, meaning that Hermione had not even gotten three hours of sleep. And she had tea with Minerva at ten. Lovely.

Seeming as it was too early to shower and dress, Hermione just padded out of her bathroom and into the kitchen, making herself a cup of coffee. Putting a slice of bread in the toaster, she set her table for one and was soon eating a nice, simple breakfast.

As always, when she was eating alone and sometimes when she wasn't, Hermione was reading while she ate. This time it was the thick tome Harry had seen the night before, titled, _Dark Curses and Their Long-Term Effects on the Physical and Mental Health of Wizards and Witches._

"As for the Cruciatus Curse, little is known about the symptoms that remain long after the curse was cast. This mainly because of the rarity of both people willing to cast this spell, and the people who survive a heavy dose of the spell. For those held under the curse for a few seconds, tremors and cramps are common, but years later all that remains in the painful memory. For around two minutes, acute shaking and-" Hermione stopped reading aloud, taking a bite of toast and chewing.

"For those subjected to more than one hour's worth of the Cruciatus, madness is assured. For those with weaker minds, the decline of mental health is immediate. For the strong, or those subjected to the curse in various doses totaling more than one hour, the ghost pains and the aftershocks will soon be severe enough to cause a break in the physical health that research shows will lead to a break of mental health as well." Hermione took a sip of coffee and sighed. "Lovely. Research shows I'm going mad."

"And talking to yourself is the first sign, Hermione," a familiar voice responded. "Morning."

"Harry!" Hermione exclaimed. "Good morning. But how did you know I would be up this early?" She stood and pulled Harry into a hug.

"Because you can't sleep without nightmares," Harry responded. "Neither can I. So I just waited until the sun came up and Apparated over here." He buried his head in her curls, breathing in the scent that was Hermione.

She looked up at him, still in his arms. "Thanks." She could feel his heartbeat. Their chests were pressed together and she was looking at those green eyes and he bent down toward her-

"No problem." It was said in a quiet murmur, lips barely moving. Hermione took a quick breath, and kissed him on the cheek before moving out of his arms. His eyes- they told her he wanted to kiss her and she could not let that happen.

"But thank you anyway, Harry. But now I need to get ready for the day. You are welcome to stay of course, but-" He cut of her babbling with a finger over her lips.

"Okay. I'll wait. Go get ready." She flashed him a quick smile and was gone in another moment.

Dear Gods. He had almost kissed her. Her. Hermione Granger. His best friend, after all those years. The only other living person he knew that was going through the same thing he was. What had he been thinking?

_That she was beautiful and finally unattached and right there looking up at me with those never-ending eyes of hers. _

But he could not keep thinking that way. She was not his, and he was certain she did not want him. There was that other man she had talked about the night before. The one who was unavailable after the war. And who she had been talking to at the party lat night.

George Weasley was busy consoling Angelina after the war. The had officially announced their relationship and the same time he and Ginny had gotten back together. The time for mourning had passed, and the time for joyous celebration had begun. And Hermione had run to him in the middle of the night, calm and clear on the outside but distressed to anyone who actually knew her. (Or had an emotional range greater than a teaspoon.) She had told him that she needed to get away. He had helped her, and two days later, the Wizarding world was reeling in shock at the loss of one of their War Heroes.

And as soon as she comes back, who does George flirt with? Hermione. Angelina was a thing of the past, as was Verity, at least for George. (She was now dating another member of the Weasley family- Ron. But that was not expected to last very long now that Hermione was back.) And they had been flirting at the party.

George was like a brother to him, a side effect of staying with the Weasley's at every possible holiday. The fact that he had broken up with his little sister didn't faze him a bit. None of the Weasley's were very upset about it, except Ginny herself.

God, that had been a nightmare. But they were on much better terms now. Much better. Not aware of his actions, Harry lifted a hand and rubbed the side of his head where he had a small scar. From a toaster. The one Ginny had thrown at his head.

He had gone to Hermione that night. She had healed his head, and told him to lay low for a few days and avoid Ginny for the next few weeks. Unsurprisingly, her advice had worked perfectly. That was one of the best times he could remember, when Hermione was gone.

_~o0o~o0o~_

_Harry looked down at the piece of paper in his hand, then at the tall apartment building. He couldn't believe that this was where Hermione was living. He checked the address on more time, then walked inside, earning a very annoyed look from the doorman._

"_Can I help you, sir?" The man's voice reminded him of Professor Snape. Harry shivered a bit at both the memory of the man who had loved his mother and the New Yorker who was glaring at him._

"_I'm here to see a Miss Lily Black." The man raised one eyebrow. _

"_That is not possible." He sneered, another similarity to the Potions professor._

"_What?" Harry sputtered. He was well aware how he looked, in jeans and a button down shirt with blood dripping down his head. "I need to see Lily."_

_The man sneered at him again. "I told you that is not possible. Ms. Black does not take unexpected visitors."_

_Harry glared at the man. "I'm her best friend. And I need her help."_

"_I am afraid I cannot do anything. You will just have to wait until morning." The man replied. _

"_If Her- Lily finds out that you didn't let me in she will move out by the end of the week." Harry said flatly. "I would call her just in case."_

_The man seemed to consider this, then sneered again. "I will ask her. But if you're lying then I will call the police for harassment. Name?"_

_Harry was really starting to consider wiping the smirk of the man's face. "Harry Potter."_

_The man pressed a button, and soon Hermione's voice was heard. "Yes?"_

"_I apologize for bothering you, Ms. Black, but there is a man here who is demanding to see you. Do you want me send him away?" He sent a malicious look at Harry, who just smirked at him._

"_Well, who is it? I need to know who it is before I send them away. For all I know it could be by best friend." _

"_I doubt it, Ms. Black. He is dripping blood all over the floor."_

"_Then it is probably one of my friends. Who is it?" The last three words were given in the tone Harry usually associated with the time Hermione was a prefect. _

"_He says his name is Harry Potter, Ms. Black."_

"_Can you ask him a question for me? Ask him to complete the sentence: Ron has the emotional range of a_. I need to make sure he is who he says he is."_

_The doorman was obviously confused by this. "Well?" he asked Harry._

"_A teaspoon." Harry said with a fond smile._

"_He says a teaspoon, Ms. Black." _

"_Well? What are you waiting for? Send him right up."_

_The door man looked at Harry with distaste. "Ms. Black resides on the top two floors. Have a nice evening."_

_Harry gave the annoying man a sarcastic grin and a jaunty wave before stepping into the elevator. The moment he knocked on Hermione's door it was thrown open and he was being squeezed to death by a petite woman in a very short red robe. Very. Short. _

"_Harry! I'm so happy to see you, I didn't know you would be in New York- Merlin and Morgana what happened to your face?"_

_Harry grinned and pressed a kiss to the top of Hermione's curly hair. "Nice to see you too, love. And, uh, Ginny threw a toaster at me. The one Arthur gave her for Christmas last year."_

_Hermione just shook her head and let him into her place, smirking slightly as he gasped. "Wow, 'Mione. Nice."_

"_I know," she said, leading him into her kitchen. "Take a seat. I need to grab my wand."_

_Harry took the opportunity to look around her kitchen, admiring the state of the art equipment. Hermione didn't take long, returning with a small brown bottle Harry recognized and her wand. She used several cleaning spells before applying the ditany. "There you go," she said with a smile. "You should only have a small scar. I'd use it to make her feel guilty."_

_Harry winced. "I was the one who decided it was time for us to go our separate ways. Ginny didn't take it too well."_

"_I got that from the impression the toaster left in your forehead," Hermione quipped. "I suppose you need another title to go with the new scar."_

_Harry grinned against his will. "The Man-Who-Broke-Up-With-A-Weasley?" he recommended. _

"_No," Hermione said with an answering grin. "I prefer the Boy-Who-Almost-Was-Decapitated-By-A-Toaster."_

"_More of a mouthful," Harry remarked. "But I like it"_

_Hermione stood and kissed the top of his head. "Me too. Tea?"_

"_Sure. Hermione?" Harry turned to watch her prepare the tea the Muggle way, as if she had completely forgotten the wand she had tucked into a pocket of her robe. _

"_Yes?" She started the water. "Earl Grey?"_

"_Of course." Harry was silent for a few moments. "Any advice on how to handle the Red-haired Fury?"_

_Hermione stopped moving, and held stock still. "What kind of relationship do you want with her now?"_

"_A purely platonic one," Harry replied firmly. "I don't see her as a sister because that would be incestuous, considering how long we've been together."_

_Hermione's face broke into a brilliant smile. Harry looked at her in amazement, well aware that it was this beauty that had given her the amazing apartment (if it wasn't too large to be called that) and the bursting bank account._

"_Well, give her some time. And by that I mean lay way low. Under all sorts of Weasley radar. Ron's prolly gonna try and rip your balls off and Mrs. Weasley will want your head. After giving them time to adjust, try and talk things over with Ginny. I trust you didn't get far before the Amazing Flying Toaster?" Hermione said thoughtfully._

"_Not far at all," Harry admitted. "It went like this: 'Ginny, I don't think we are working anymore.' 'What do you mean by that?' 'I mean that I think we would be happier as friends, not a couple.' 'Are you breaking up with me?' 'Yes.' 'OWWW!' 'GET OUT! GET OUT! COME BACK WHEN YOU ARE READY TO APOLOGIZE!" _

_Hermione winced. "Okay. Definitely stay under the radar." The tea was done quickly, and Hermione poured two cups, adding lemon to both and sugar to one, which she handed to Harry._

"_Is it freaky the way you know exactly how I like tea?" Harry asked, suddenly. _

_Hermione thought for a moment, and shook her head. "I don't think so. We have been friends for almost nine years."_

"_Right." Harry sipped his tea, then blurted out the question that had been on the tip of his tongue all night. "When are you coming back?" He knew it was hypocritical. He was the one telling all the newspapers to get off her case. But he needed to ask. _

"_I- I don't know," Hermione said softly. "I like my life the way it is now. I'm not hounded. I'm free to do what I want. People recognize me for being in a add rather than for killing Death Eaters and bringing about the fall of Voldemort."_

"_But I miss you, Hermione. We miss you," Harry pleaded. "We all love you. Ron misses you like crazy. Ginny used to cry because she misses her 'sister.' Teddy misses you. When he doesn't look like Remus or I, he changes his face to look like you. Have you seen him with curly hair, Hermione? You were practically his mum for three months."_

_Hermione closed her eyes, gripping her tea cup tightly as if it was all too much. "But- I- I can't. I haven't finished finding myself yet."_

_Harry bowed his head in defeat. "I'd better get going. With the time difference and all..."_

"_Yeah." Hermione looked sad now, haunted. It was another thing that had made her famous, Harry mused. They just loved the way she could cry on command. Or look like she just lost someone important to her. _

_They both stood, Harry finishing his tea, and Hermione walking him to the door._

"_See you soon, Harry?" she asked, almost like she was begging forgiveness._

_Harry groaned inwardly. She thought he was mad at her because she didn't want to return yet. He pulled her into a hug, and pressed his face into her hair. "Of course, Hermione. When is your next shoot in Europe?"_

"_Next week. Paris. I'll be staying at my flat there." She returned the hug gratefully. "Good luck with Ginny."_

_Harry squeezed her tightly one last time, then released her and stepped out. "See you in Paris." He winked._

"_I'll be the one in white," Hermione said solemnly. "Promise. This one is all about angels and demons. And guess who has to be the angel?"_

_Harry chuckled. "Only you would complain about being an angel, Hermione. Not enough good literature on them?"_

_Hermione grinned. "At least I know demons are real."_

_Harry laughed, then checked his watch. "Thanks, 'Mione. Gotta go."_

"_Bye," she said quietly, watching him run to the elevator. "See you in Paris."_

_~o0o~o0o~_

Harry was jolted out of his musings by the reappearance of Hermione. "I have tea with Minerva," she explained hastily. "And a mysterious surprise guest. I'll see you soon?"

"Of course," Harry replied easily. "I'm taking you out for dinner tonight."

Hermione smirked. "Where?"

"At the Flaming Phoenix. Hottest place for Wizarding London right now. I've been waiting for your return to sample it."

"See you at the Flaming Phoenix, then." Hermione said. "What time?"

"I will be picking you up at six," Harry said, putting on an air of importance. "I made the reservations already."

He walked with her to the door, holding it open as she stepped through, then leaning against the wall as she locked up.

'Well I guess I have to go then. Be here at six, then." She hugged him, then stepped into the elevator.

"Give my regards to our favorite Headmistress," Harry called as the door closed. She knew he would prefer to take the stairs, Harry mused. That was so Hermione.

And so, shaking his head, he started down the stairs.

~o0o~o0o~

"Hermione!" Minerva McGonagall, Headmistress of Hogwarts and Esteemed Transfiguration Master, exclaimed. "It is so good to see you again!"

Hermione allowed herself to be pulled into a hug by her favorite teacher. "It is great to see you again, too, Minerva. I've missed our discussions."

"And my lovely company," McGonagall said dryly.

"That too," Hermione agreed. "You do have such a way with people." They both laughed, and Hermione was invited inside her mentor's personal chambers.

"So how have you been, Hermione?" the Headmistress asked. "All I've heard has been from Potter and the Daily Prophet. And I hardly got a chance to see you at yesterday's party."

"I've been doing alright," Hermione said softly. "Not as good as I would have liked, but alright. And you?"

Minerva smiled sadly, her age showing on her face. "I'm fine, my dear. But I'm not young anymore."

Hermione laughed bitterly, throwing her head back in an imitation of mirth. "In years at least."

Minerva responded with another sad smile. "You and your friends haven't been young since you were eleven. Is my feeble brain failing me, or do I remember something about a girl's bathroom and troll boogies on a wand?"

Hermione laughed, a real laugh this time. "You're still as sharp as ever Minerva."

"Good," The Headmistress replied. "I have made no plans to resign as of yet."

"That's a relief," Hermione said. "I know no other that would be good for the job."

McGonagall smirked. "Thank you, my dear. But I have been grooming Neville Longbottom for the position. He will make a fine Headmaster."

Hermione gasped. "I saw him just this morning and he didn't say anything! Why didn't he mention it at the party?"

Minerva shrugged. "Probably because he has no clue. Neville always was one of those completely dense Gryffindors when it came to anything other than Herbology. You were the exception to the rule, Hermione."

"You are starting to sound eerily like Professor Snape," Hermione mentioned, eyes alight with humorous delight.

McGongall just chuckled. "We did work together for more than thirty years," she said thoughtfully. "I guess he did rub off on me. Once you finally notice it, you do realize that for the most part, our house is known for bravery. However, for the most part, we just run in to giant disasters with no plan, and get so god-damn lucky that it is called bravery," The last part of her little speech had turned more rant-like, causing Hermione to raise one eyebrow.

"Are you Snape Polyjucied as Minerva, or have you been thinking about my years at Hogwarts?" Hermione questioned.

Minerva groaned. "You caught me. I thought it might be a good idea to look back fondly on the time you spent under my care. I ended up craving a Firewhiskey before I got to your fifth year."

Hermione shook her head. "I would have thought you would have at least made it to the end of sixth year before needing a drink. However, I will concede that thinking of Umbridge would make anyone want to drown their sorrows in alcohol."

McGonagall shivered visibly. "That woman was a nightmare. I am glad that there is no more Ministry interference in Hogwarts."

Hermione scowled. "Fat lot of bloody duffers, they are. I wouldn't be surprised if they had changed at all in the years I was gone. I can't believe I once wanted to work for them."

Minerva stiffened slightly. "Well, that was something I wanted to talk to you about." Hermione knew the Headmistress well enough to see that she was hiding something. But what? Surely-

"What is it, Minerva?" Hermione asked, growing worried.

"I invited you here not so ask you to teach at Hogwarts, but to ask you if you would consider taking a job at the Ministry as an Unspeakable," said the Headmistress firmly, all traces of reluctance disappearing. "A good friend of mine is in charge of the Department of Mysteries. He had his eye on you since your third year, when I asked him for your Time Turner. He requested that I see how amiable you are to the idea before you meet him."

Hermione was shocked. Beyond shocked. Her eyebrows were lost somewhere in the air above her head and her usually far too active mind was shut down for a moment or two. But then it started again and the questions reared their oddly-shaped heads.

"An Unspeakable?" she sputtered. "Me? But I'm just your average insufferable know-it-all with a trouble-magnet for a best friend and a lot of that god-damned luck that looks like bravery."

Minerva looked at Hermione, with a gaze that seemed to look straight into Hermione's soul. "My dear," she said fondly and with a hint of exasperation, "You have a horribly mangled view of yourself."

Hermione snorted. "The only thing I can think of that would make me useful to the Department of Mysteries is my prolonged exposure to the Cruciatus Curse and my connections with Muggle and Wizarding society in most of Europe and some of the United States."

"Right in one, Miss Granger," said a deep voice, accompanied by the sound of Minerva's door closing. "Good morning, Minerva."

* * *

><p><strong>Kudos and a dedication to you if you can guess who the mystery voice is. And it may not be a man. Just warning you. <strong>

**Give me your feedback or your opinion of the last Harry Potter movie. It would be appreciated. Greatly. And if you really need to, you can bug me about TWoT. As soon as I get my hands on my computer tomorrow, I will start writing that one. **

**Review, please. It is my only way of gauging interest and what I am doing right or wrong. Thank you to all the reviewers from Chapter Two.**

***** One review hit a soft and fuzzy spot within me. dadscooking left me a review that made me feel humbled and awed by the number of people who read what I write and the appreciation they have for me. Thank you from the bottom of my heart for such a kind and thought-provoking review.*****


	4. Chapter 4

**Here you are! New chapter! Sorry it took me forever, but I just got back from my amazing vacation. Now I'm on the way to another city so I can show my amazing cousin my state. I promise I will update TWOT next. Promise.**

**Check out my new story, _The Truth of 1995_. It is Sirius/ Hermione. Enjoy!**

* * *

><p>Hermione and Minerva both startled at the sound of the voice. Minerva put a shaking hand to her heart and laughed shakily. "You scared me, Croaker. Come in, please sit down."<p>

A large man, face obstructed by his cloak, sat down in the armchair across from the sofa where the two women were sitting. "Thank you, Minerva. One sugar, please." He accepted the tea from his host, then leaned back, face still not visible.

Hermione could feel his eyes on her. "You want me to work for the Department of Mysteries?" When both Croaker and Minerva nodded, Hermione frowned. "Pardon my language, but what the hell are you thinking?"

Croaker coughed, a cough the sounded suspiciously like a covered laugh to Hermione. "That we want such an accomplished young lady on our staff."

Minerva added her two cents, smirking at Hermione. "I told you that you have a completely twisted view of yourself."

Hermione almost dropped her tea in frustration. "But I haven't done anything! It was all Harry! All I did was not let him die!"

Minerva raised a stern eyebrow, and glared. "Your first year. How exactly did you and the boys survive the traps designed by some of the best witches and wizards in the world?"

Hermione glared back. "Luck."

Minerva huffed, and set her tea down. "From what I could tell, someone remembered something about Devil's Snare. And was able to solve a horribly complicated riddle. Or even see behind the giant three headed dog and notice the trapdoor."

"A good memory, logic, and being aware of my surroundings," Hermione said, ticking them off on her fingers. "Nothing special."

"Second year," Minerva challenged. "Being the second person since the first Heir of Slytherin to discover what the Monster of Slytherin was since the Monster was put in the Chamber in the first place." Croaker was watching with an air of amusement, arms crossed over his chest, face still hidden.

Hermione gave a very lady-like snort. "Knowledge unique to the situation. A love of reading."

Minerva was relishing the fight. "Third year. Figuring out Remus was a werewolf." Both she and Hermione flinched, but Minerva continued anyway. "Using a Time Turner responsibly, then using it to save an innocent man, and an innocent beast. Preparing a perfect defense for said innocent beast that only failed because of corruption in the Ministry."

"Observation, maturity, on-the-spot planning, and understanding the legal system," Hermione countered.

"Fourth year. Teaching a hopeless case a spell in under twenty-four hours. Teaching the aforementioned hopeless case how to defend himself well enough to survive and win a tournament meant for adults. Discovering Rita Skeeter's secret and blackmailing her through it. And keeping your grades up the entire time."

"Finding solutions to problems. Observational skills. Good studying skills."

"Fifth year. Coming up with the idea of the DA. The jinx on the paper. The coins. The lessons. Blackmailing Rita Skeeter. Tricking Umbridge. Surviving the Department of Mysteries. Highest O.W.L. scores in a century. " They were speaking in short, clipped sentences, neither wanting to give in.

"Finding solutions to problems. Planning ahead. Borrowing ideas. Planning. Taking advantage of opportunities. On-the-spot planning. Good studying skills."

"I've heard enough," Croaker said pleasantly. "Ms. Granger, I'd only heard half of that, and I already wanted you for the Department. Now that I've heard what you've done between the ages of twelve and sixteen, I will offer you anything you want to be able to say that you are an Unspeakable. You have exactly the qualities I want in my Unspeakables."

Hermione blinked, and took a sip of tea. "So the fact that I have both Time Turner exposure and Cruciatus Curse Exposure have nothing to do with it?" Was she going to be studied, or doing the studying?

Croaker laughed, a deep baritone that made Hermione grin in response. "They have everything to do with it. So does the fact that you broke into and managed to survive breaking into both the Department of Mysteries and Gringotts. And Hogwarts, now that Minerva mentions it." He nodded toward Professor McGonagall who nodded back.

"And my friendship with Harry Potter? And my connections?" Hermione questioned. She wanted to be wanted for her skills, not for the people she knew.

Croaker finally lowered his hood. He was a white man, with a hooked nose, thinning brown hair, and thin lips. But his most compelling feature was his eyes. The fathomless depths of dark brown captured Hermione's own. "I want you for all those oustanding features you just listed. Any other connections or curious adventures is just a bonus."

Hermione closed her eyes, and thought. Because she was Hermione Granger, it did not take her very long to come to a conclusion. "What are the terms of the position?"

Croaker smiled broadly. "400 Galleons, 13 Sickles a month. Unlimited access to the Ministry records and labs. As many sick days or vacations days as necessary. A permit for Portkey creation and use of Unforgivables. A spell that makes you unable to speak of your work to anyone who is not an Unspeakable. Training." He spread his arms. "What do you want to add to the table."

Hermione hesitated. "A project. One that I would like to work on." She stopped again.

Minerva smiled sadly at her. "Go on, dear." Hermione shot her mentor a smile, and continued.

"I would like to be able to research and experiment on the effects of long term Cruciatus exposure on witches and wizards. It is something that has occupied my thoughts for a long time," Hermione admitted. "As you probably know, the outcome of the research is very personal for me."

Croaker nodded. "The late Bellatrix Lestrange, nèe Black. She tortured you for two days, correct?"

Hermione nodded. "Correct."

"And you wonder how this will affect you?" he asked.

"I already know how it will affect me," Hermione said with a bitter laugh. "I live through it every day. I just want it to _stop_!" The last word was almost a whisper. "I'm going crazy and I just want peace!"

Both Minerva and Croaker were staring at her. She hated the pity in their eyes. She laughed again. She knew she sounded mad, like Bella at her finest. "I just want peace," she said again.

Croaker was still regarding her with those eyes. "Then you shall have it. I will instruct people to study the matter whether or not you accept my offer of a job."

Hermione blinked rapidly, willing tears not to fall. "If you still want me, I accept."

Croaker stood, and Hermione rose with him. He held out a hand, which Hermione shook. "Welcome to the fold, Hermione Granger." With a quick goodbye to the Headmistress, he took his leave of the school.

"Come to the Ministry next Monday, Ms. Granger," was the only other instruction he gave her.

"Well," said Hermione shaking her head. "You certainly do have interesting friends."

"I know," responded Minerva. "But I am convinced that I would rather have had perfectly boring friends. Will you stay for lunch?"

~0o0~0o0~0o0~

"You look nice," Harry remarked, extending his arm so Hermione could turn and show off her dress. "I think the last time I saw you in a dress before you left for America was at Bill and Fleur's wedding."

Hermione frowned in thought. "You're right. Do you like this one at least?"

Harry finally allowed his eyes to run along her form appreciatively. "Hell, yeah. When I say dress up, you dress up." She was wearing a white dress edged in gold that seemed vaguely Oriental, the top wrapped like a kimono, short sleeves, and tight fit. It only fell to about her knees, and flying around the torso and skirt of the dress was a golden phoenix.

"Thanks," Hermione said. "I took inspiration from the name of the restaurant." She liked the dress, and the cream chopsticks that were holding her hair in place. The dress she had obtained in Japanese, and the chopsticks had been a gift from Jonathan. She had felt slightly guilty about wearing them on what could be considered a date with Harry, but she forced herself to ignore the twinges. She was not dating anyone, not Harry, not Jonathan.

"Shall we be off?" asked Harry, offering his arm. "Our reservations are for six."

Hermione looked at the arm as if it was a ticking time bomb. "Have you gotten better at Side-Along recently?"

Harry had no control over the sheepish blush that was spreading across his cheeks. "Uh... No. But I am the only one of us who knows where the restaurant is."

Hermione sighed, teasing him. "Then I guess I must. Concentrate, will you? I will hate you if you Splinch and get blood on my dress."

Harry smirked. "I'll do my best." Somehow, with her voice whispering in his ear, concentrating was easier. Everything was easier around Hermione. She seemed to exude knowledge and confidence.

They were crushed through a steel tube and deposited at a surprisingly clean alley near a nondescript brick building, Hermione stumbling slightly upon their landing. "God damn these heels," she muttered, causing Harry to glance at the dangerously high shoes Hermione was wearing.

"God damn is right," he said suddenly. "You are walking in your own personal torture chambers. Please tell me there is a spell you use or something."

"Nope," Hermione responded cheerfully. "But when I started wearing them, I would put a cushioning charm. Now I'm used to it."

"Here it is," Harry said, leading them to a door in the alley that was heavily gratified, the most noticeable being a large flaming phoenix. "Clever, don't you think?"

Hermione shrugged. "Notice-Me-Not on the alley, and a Compelling Charm to prevent people from throwing their litter here. Simple enough, the Americans have been doing it for years."

Harry just chuckled and threw open the door. "Of course. After you, milady."

Hermione raised one eyebrow, and walked into the restaurant. There was a snooty looking maitre d' who gave a first class sneer at Hermione's muggle attire. The sneer widened when he saw Harry's tuxedo.

"We do not accept walk-ins," he said, with a slight wrinkling of the nose. "And aside from being reservation only, we request that proper wizarding custom be adhered to."

Harry sighed. "The reservation is under Harry Potter," he said, rolling his eyes. Predictably, the man squinted, eyes flying to Harry's forehead. Then the gasp of recognition. And then the slight glance to his beautiful companion, and then another gasp.

"Harry- Harry Potter! My sincerest apolo- Hermione Granger! The Hermione-" The next words out of his mouth was a jumble of stuttered apologies and awe at the celebrities.

Finally, Hermione just swore. "Our table. Now!" she snapped, in a cold voice Harry had never heard her use before. It had a tone that made him uncomfortably aware of the similarities between the expression on her face and that usually seen on that of Draco Malfoy or Narcissa Malfoy. It was the tone used to order servants around, as if they were inferior beings, beneath notice.

"Yes, Ma'am Right away, Ma'am." With out another word, the man gathered menus and led them a table near the back of the restaurant.

Both Hermione and Harry were quiet.

"I'm sorry-"

"Hermione, what-"

They both stopped, then Hermione gestured for Harry to go first. He ran a hand through his messy hair and sighed. "What the hell. Care to explain?"

Hermione nodded meekly. "Something I've heard a lot. I hate it when people make scenes like that, and I know you hate it too. And some of the people I know are as famous as you are, which makes this sort of thing not exactly uncommon. And that is how they deal with it."

Harry gave her a small smile. "It shut him up, so I can't really complain," he said, breaking into a full grin at her responding smile.

Opening her menu, Hermione scanned her choices. "Soon I'll have more than a voice to scare people," she mentioned casually. "Did I tell you I was offered a job today?"

Harry put down the menu he had started to open. "No, you certainly did not. Are you going to take over the Transfiguration post, Hermione? Rumor says that it is that or something promoting elf rights." He had been wondering what Hermione would do. If she was in Hogwarts, he wouldn't be able to see her as often. And it was almost not a possibility that she would do anything for the Ministry. Maybe St. Mungo's?

Hermione laughed. "And since when do you take rumor seriously?" she asked, ignoring the looks her laugh drew.

Harry grinned wryly. "Since forever. Didn't you know that I'm the Heir of Slytherin, horrified at your dumping of me for Viktor Krum, nuttier than squirrel poo, and Undesirable Number One? And I'm dating Ginny Weasley, Katie Bell, Lavender Brown, the Patil twins, and Cho Chang?"

They both laughed then, and Hermione set down her menu. "I think I'll take the salmon with the potatoes, and greens. You?"

Harry chuckled. "I haven't even opened the menu. Let me see." He pursued the list for a moment, then shrugged. "I think the duck. And for an appetizer?"

Hermione sighed and opened her menu. "That's right. I'm not a model anymore. If I so desire I can eat as many courses as I want."

Harry's green eyes were worried as he looked at Hermione's frame again. "I'm not saying you don't look good, but Hermione, you look like you haven't gained more than a pound since 1997."

Hermione smirked, but there was something Harry could see was horribly fake in it. "I haven't. Or if I have, it was only like two or three. And half of that would have been my hair."

"You haven't been eating right?" questioned Harry. "You aren't getting enough calories? Why not?"

Hermione shook her head, mentally willing Harry to drop it. "It is nothing, Harry."

"Hermione-" Harry stubbornly began, only to be cut off by Hermione.

"Harry," she snapped. "That is none of your business." Her heart broke a little. It was so _personal._ But since when had she refused to tell Harry anything? Or without the intention to fill him in later? And he was just worried about her. And if she said anything, he might sink into one of his 'it's all my fault' depressions.

A waiter suddenly appeared, breaking into a light sweat when he saw who exactly he was going to be serving. Perhaps the fierce glares the two celebrities were sending each other helped.

"Can I get you something to drink?" he asked, voice breaking.

Harry broke his glare, and ordered for the both of them, refusing the offer of a wine menu and instead choosing water, as well as asking for some stuffed mushrooms as an appetizer. As soon as the waiter left, he returned to considering Hermione.

"I know it is none of my business, Hermione. But you are my friend and I worry about you. And if one of my friends is sick or in need of help, I am going to help them be it my business or not." Harry reached across the table and took one of Hermione's small, cold, white hands. "Hermione. I love you. You are the only person who has never once betrayed me. I want you to be happy and healthy. Tell me what is wrong!" His rough voice pierced Hermione's heart.

"Harry-" she began, but paused, then sighed. "Harry. You are my best friend, and I want to tell you. But not here, not now. Okay?"

Harry grinned disarmingly. "Okay." He squeezed the hand he was holding, and kissed it on a whim. "You're so cold, Hermione. Do you want my jacket?"

Hermione shook her head. "No, I'm fine. And I am a witch, Harry. I could cast a warming charm." Again, laughter stemming from the remembered adventures of their first year flooded their little corner of the restaurant.

They made more small talk over the excellent mushrooms, Harry filling Hermione in on what more had happened in the lives of their friends and Hermione telling stories about her days as a model. There was a slight pause in the conversation when the entree arrived, but one exclamation on Harry's part ended that.

He took a bite of his duck, then almost choked on it. "Hermione!" he exclaimed.

"Harry!" she said in the same tone, before laughing. "What?" She took a morsel of salmon, and smiled slightly at the taste of the pink fish.

Harry had the decency to blush. "I just realized you never told me what job you were offered or whether or not you accepted."

Hermione gave him the smirk she only got when she had a particularly startling fact (often) or extremely juicy piece of gossip (Rare. _Really_ rare). She had the same smirk when she had figured out the Rita Skeeter mystery, and a slightly happier version when she and Harry had figured out how the Sword of Gryffindor could destroy Horcruxes.

"Well," she drawled, eyes sparkling. "I'm not sure I can tell you."

Harry huffed in frustration, savagely cutting up his poor piece of Daffy. "So what? Are you going to tell me you are some kind of super secret government researcher? Or that I need a top secret clearance from the Ministry for you to tell me about your work?" He laughed, obviously thinking he had made a clever joke.

When Hermione didn't laugh, Harry looked at her with wide eyes and groaned. "I shouldn't have said anything. If I hadn't said anything, you would tell me you are going to be the new Charms teacher or something. Now that I said this, you are going to tell me they want you to be an Unspeakable or something." He chewed on his duck, then took a sip of water, a pensive expression on his face. "Why do these things always happen to me?"

Hermione shrugged. "I dunno. But about my job..." she paused. She really didn't know why Harry always had the worst luck except when he was actually in a dangerous situation. Then he had amazingly good luck. It was as if whatever Fate or Deity that was watching over him felt sorry for the hand they had dealt him every time he ended up fearing for his life. Just sorry enough to save his miserable arse for the next round of Harry Hunting or the next Ministry Smear Campaign.

Harry waved his fork, a carrot hanging precariously at the end. "Continue. The suspense is killing me."

Hermione shook her head. "I was offered a job at the Ministry as an Unspeakable."

"If we weren't in a fancy restaurant I would start banging my head against the table. So did you accept?" Harry let out a huge sigh, and at the carrot. "Why me?" he muttered under his breath. "Why is it always me?"

Hermione's fork paused on its way to her mouth, then descended to her plate. "No, Hermione, why the hell would they want you for an Unspeakable? No, Hermione, what the hell are you thinking working for the Ministry?"

"I work for the Ministry. And I thought you were the smart one," he scoffed. "And I know you would be perfect for the job. I can see you buried in forbidden books researching anything that catches your fancy."

Hermione was silent. It seemed everyone could see qualities in her that she couldn't see in herself. Did everyone see her like some super researcher who lived only for her books?

She realized she had a hand waving in front of her face. "Earth to Planet Hermione." She swatted away his hand.

"I was thinking," she grumbled. "And yes, I accepted. I start Monday. "

Harry grinned and toasted her with his water glass. "Congratulations! So I am best friends with an Unspeakable. So you can't talk to me about your work?"

Hermione hesitated. "No. Unless, well, you might be interested in being my guinea pig. Then I think I would be able to share my work with you." She looked down at her plate, pushing around her food. "I need to ask my supervisors."

To her surprise and shock, Harry grinned. "I would love to be your guinea pig. You will be researching the effects of the Cruciatus?" At her nod, he continued. "Great. I'm sure you will be more successful than the people I have on it now. I'll ask the to give me all their research so you have something to go on, then dismiss them."

Hermione looked guilty. "I fell bad about this I don't want them to lose their work, especially-"

Harry interrupted her. "I would rather have you figuring out what is wrong. And I will make sure to find work for all of them before letting them go. They are highly respected witches and wizards. They will have no problems finding work. Now eat and stop worrying."

Hermione obeyed, chuckling in her head when she realized that Harry knew exactly what to say to make her calm down and stop fretting. They had known each other for almost ten years. Dear Lord. Of course he knew her better than she knew herself.

"And for you, Harry?" she questioned after a few moments of silence. "How has work been going with the Aurors?"

"Just fine," Harry said. "My partner is nice, reminds me of Kingsley. Not awed by my fame, not stupid. Just your average experienced Auror. At first he wasn't too happy to be stuck with a rookie, but we get along nicely. At least he isn't like Moody."

Hermione nodded solemnly. "I would not like to see what Moody would have done to you as a rookie. I would only have half of my perfectly lovely Harry Potter left."

Harry felt a warm stirring inside of himself when he heard her call him _her_ Harry Potter. It was about this time that he really started paying attention to the way her hair was a soft, warm brown in the simple bun it was in, and how the stray curls framed her face and neck. Her skin was glowing in the candlelight, and her honey eyes were filled with so much life it made him want to spin her in a circle and kiss her like there was no tomorrow. At this though, his eyes went to her rosebud mouth, painted red for the night. It cheered him slightly to think that he was one of the only people who could see her both with makeup and without. She was beautiful either way.

Hermione was shocked by the emotion moving in Harry's face. "I just glad I'm here, Hermione. I've been waiting for this day for two years."

Hermione looked down at the tablecloth. "Harry-"

"No, Hermione." Harry's voice was firm. "I know why you left. I understand. I have no fucking clue why you came back. But I know that this day was bound to come sooner or later, and I am overjoyed that you are back. So we can stop moping and I can show you how much I wanted you back. Dessert?"

Hermione was taken aback, but she nodded slowly. "Of course. I heard they have a lovely apple pastry dessert here."

Harry tilted his head in thought. "I think I heard something about it. Who did you ask? McGonagall?"

"Yes, this morning," Hermione answered. "I told her you would be taking me here and she recommended the apple pastry."

Harry smiled warmly. "If it is good enough for our favorite Headmistress, then it is good enough for me."

When the plates disappeared and the waiter came once more, they ordered their dessert. It appeared almost instantaneously on their plates, a benefit of magic. It was delicious of course, a testament to the good reputation of the restaurant.

"That was good," remarked Harry, setting down his spoon and watching the plate disappear. "Although I am sure you've had better somewhere else."

Hermione shrugged. "Better food, maybe. Better company, no." She smiled shyly at Harry. "I always had to be someone else with anyone else. Even with Neville or Luna or Ginny, I could never be just Hermione Granger. Even Ron saw me as a walking encyclopedia, or a talking homework machine. I can be 'Mione with you."

Harry smiled back just as shyly. "And you are still the only person who has always seen me as 'just Harry.'" He tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear and caressed her soft cheek, watching in awe as her eyes fluttered closed. He had to force himself to let his hand fall back to the table.

"I'm sure that was a moment there when I was excited to meet the Harry Potter," she murmured absentmindedly. "I knew you were in books."

Harry nodded, thinking. "The first time you found out who I was. You told me what books I was in."

"Does that make you think any less of me?" asked Hermione. "Knowing that I knew of you before I knew you?"

"No," said Harry firmly. "You treat me like a sometimes silly and stupid human being. Not a famous and brave hero."

"And you treat me like a person with a brain," said Hermione. "I hate being treated like just another pretty face. I refuse to be a trophy hanging of some man's arm."

Harry chuckled dryly. "And I refuse to have some trophy hanging off my arm." He thought for a moment, and a spark grew in his eyes. "Hermione?"

Hermione eyed his hopeful face warily. "Yes?"

Harry grinned even bigger. "There is the Victory Ball coming up in three weeks. You'll prolly get your invitation in a few days, or next week. Will you go with me?" When he saw she wasn't saying anything, he tried to persuade her. "Hermione, we just said that we didn't want to just be someone famous to brag about going out with. You'll do me a huge favor by going to the ball with me, and then you won't have to go with someone who doesn't care about you," Harry realized he had almost made the same mistake that Ron had done so many years ago. "Unless of course, there is someone else you have in mind to go with."

Hermione frowned. "I'll go with you Harry. But can we discuss the final details later?"

"Sure," Harry said, slightly hurt that she hesitated. Was if George she wanted to go with? Or someone else he didn't even know? "Are you ready to go?"

"Yes," Hermione said, reaching for her bag. "Just let me get the check."

Harry stared at her for a moment. "Hermione, just what was in the salmon? I already took care of everything."

Hermione groaned. "Harry. I have more money than I know what to do with-"

"Then we are in the same boat," Harry cut in. "And because I'm the man here, I will take the check. You can be the man next time."

"Sexist," Hermione muttered. "Fine. But you have to wear a dress."

Harry's eyes widened. "You're not serious."

"Do I look like a pureblood?" Hermione asked with a raised eyebrow. "Or a male?"

Harry shook his head. "So that means you won't make me wear a dress?"

"I don't know yet," Hermione said with a shrug. "It depends on how much you step on my feet when we dance."

Harry stood and helped Hermione out of her seat. As they walked toward the exit, he casually put a hand on the small of her back, just to guide her, he told himself.

In the back of the restaurant were Apparition points, for those who were leaving or for returning guests.

"My place?" asked Hermione. When Harry nodded, she spun on her heel and disappeared with a soft crack. Harry smiled, then concentrated and appeared in the living room of Hermione's flat.

He arrived just in time to see a tall man with dark hair lift Hermione and spin her around before burying his face in her hair.

"Jon!" he heard her cry. "What are you doing here?"

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><p><strong>What did you think? Do you want the next chapter? If so, review! I want to get to fifty reviews. Only fourteen reviews, not so hard, right? <strong>

**Remember, look for my new story and the story of my cousin, on my favorites. Also, watch for a new chapter of TWOT. **

**Help the author: Can a flat refer to an apartment with two floors? I'm unsure. Thanks!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Wow. Hands down, longest chapter I have ever written. More than 7000 words without the AN's. **

**This chapter made me realize that if I have enough imagination and smarts, I can take this story very deep. Tell me what you think at the end of the chapter.**

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><p>Hermione felt herself being compressed through a small, narrow tube, mentally shaking her head over the wizarding world. Why had no one ever tried to find a safer and more comfortable method of travel?<p>

She landed lightly on her high heels, an art learned more through necessity than practice. Without even a wobble, she set her purse down on a nearby chair, she stretched, and reached over her shoulder to pull out the pair of chopsticks that were keeping her curls up. They fell down around her face, and she heard a light groan come from behind her.

Her hand was reaching for her wand when she recognized the man in front of her. Running to him, he lifted her in to a hug, spinning her around.

"Jon!" she cried. "What are you doing here?" In the background she noticed Harry appearing.

The tall man with black hair and startlingly blue eyes set her down, still holding her close. "I came to see you, princess," he said, eyes smoldering. He was making her dizzy, an effect he had on all women ages twelve and up.

Hermione chuckled nervously. "Of course you did. Well," she sighed. Then she smacked his arm lightly, silently asking to be set down, pecking him on the cheek. "It's great to see you, Jon."

Keeping his hands on her waist, Jon smirked. "Of course it is, princess." His eyes flicked toward Harry, and they narrowed. "Are you going to introduce me to your date?"

"He's not my date," Hermione said quickly. "Anyway. Jon, this is Harry Potter. Harry, this is Jonathan King."

Hermione watched as Harry's forehead wrinkled in confusion, before the light of understanding lit his face. "Jonathan King. American, right?"

Jon's face registered his surprise. "Yeah, actually. From New York. How did you know?"

"One, the accent," Harry said dryly. "And two, you were in the-" he paused, unsure if Jonathan was a wizard. Then he remembered that he hadn't reacted strongly to a man suddenly appearing in a room. "The newspaper. It was running a few articles on Hermione, and your name was mentioned with her's."

Glancing toward Hermione, Jon smirked. "Did it," he said casually. "And what exactly did it say?"

Harry shrugged. "Nothing much. Just that you were seen with Hermione."

"You mean Lily," King said, a bit confused. "Right?"

Hermione shot a look toward Harry, who sighed. "Uh, right. Lily." The look of relief Hermione sent him made his feel much better.

Jon's happy expression was back, and he nodded. "Thought so."

"Go ahead and sit down, Jon, Harry," Hermione called over her shoulder, walking into the kitchen. "Do you want something to drink? Wine, tea?"

Jon snorted and shook his head. "Do you have beer, Lils?"

"No," Hermione said. "But-"

"Coke then," Jon called back. "You do have, Coke, right?"

"Yeah," Hermione said, walking back into the living room, drinks floating behind her. "Here." She handed a glass of water to Harry, and taking hers out of the air.

"Thanks, Lily," Jon said. "So are you going to tell me about your," he paused and wiggled his eyebrows. "Friend?"

Hermione hit his arm lightly. "You should know about him, Jon. I know you know who he is."

Jon shrugged. "You know I know the bare minimum of wizarding culture."

Hermione explained to Harry. "Jon's step-mother was a witch, and his step-siblings. He knows some of what happened here."

"You told him you were a witch?" questioned Harry. "Without knowing that about him? I might have to arrest you, Her- Lily," he teased.

Hermione stuck her tongue out. "Be quiet. We met a club. Then the next day I saw him with his little sister in the New York version of Diagon Alley."

Jon nodded. "So you're a cop?"

"The wizarding version," Harry said with a shrug. "I've been tracking down- well I guess you could call them terrorist cells."

"Wow," Jon said, then whistled. "Cool." He took a sip of the soda, then spoke again. "So how long have you known Lily?"

Harry thought for a moment. "Technically, ten years on the first of September. We became friends on the Halloween on that year."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "What he isn't telling you is that I barged into his compartment on the train and asked if he had seen a lost toad. And the Halloween we became friends was the Halloween he- well, he helped me."

Harry frowned slightly. The woman in front of him was colder, more reserved than the Hermione he knew.

"Helped you? Helped you how?" Jon's rough New York accent bored a hole into Harry's thoughts, and he answered without thinking.

"I trapped her in a bathroom with a mountain troll and consequently rescued her from it. I stuck my wand up its nose," Harry said distantly. "Troll boogies are no fun, as I recall." She had looked so young back then, Harry thought. So young, so scared, so vulnerable.

The glare Hermione sent him snapped him back to the present. The Hermione of the year 2000 was not so childish. She was a woman, with a woman's share of problems.

"You saved her life?" asked Jon. "I suppose I should thank you."

"It was a good investment," Harry replied, winking at Hermione, trying to break her from the mood she was in. "She's saved my life several times over herself."

Hermione coughed. "Yes. Would you care for some more Coke, Jon?"

"Nah, I'm okay. I really should get going," Jon yawned, setting his glass down and stretching. "I'm so damn tired. Jet lag and all. I really should travel the way you wizards do. Much easier on the system."

Hermione chuckled nervously. "Alright then. Where are you staying?"

"The Ritz, Lily. Where else?" He laughed, a deep throaty noise that made girls melt. "With my family, I had better stay at one of the best hotels in the world."

Hermione stood and walked with Jon to the door, then paused. "How exactly did you get in here?"

"About that," Jon said, eyes darting around the room. "I told your doorman I was a personal friend and he let me in."

Harry's eyes narrowed at this explanation, but he did not say anything. He would find out sooner or later.

Hermione kissed Jonathan on the cheek, and said her goodbyes, waiting at the door until he was down the elevator. As soon as he was out of sight, she sighed, and slumped against the door.

"Harry-" she began, then stopped.

Harry ran a hand through his already messy hair. "Hermione. Or should I call you Lily?" he spat.

The terribly wounded expression on Hermione's pale face made Harry feel instantly ashamed of himself. He had done it again, even though he had promised not to. "Sorry," he said in a quick exhale of breath. "That was uncalled for."

Hermione shook her head, using one hand to pull her heavy curls into a pony tail which she held together in one hand. The lack of the dark ringlets made her look seventeen again, and Harry's mind flew back almost five years. "No, Harry. You're right. I- I'm sorry."

Harry winced when he saw the tears forming in her eyes. "God damn it to hell," he muttered. "Hermione- No, Hermione don't cry. Please don't cry."

"I'm sorry," she said thickly. "I'm so sorry- I can't help it." The tears were running now, and Harry _hated_ seeing Hermione cry. In his heart, he knew she had gone back to that night, just like he had. He crossed the room in five steps to gather her in his arms.

"Don't cry, Hermione." he murmured desperately. "Please don't cry, 'Mione. I can't stand to see you upset."

She just wrapped her arms around him and held him tightly. "I'm sorry, Harry."

Instead of speaking again, he scooped her up and carried her to the couch. With a few muttered words and some fancy wandwork, he exchanged her dress for a pair of pajamas. Still holding the crying woman, he leaned against the couch and let her cry herself out on him.

While her tears flowed, Harry's thoughts drifted back to another time they had sat like this, at a time when they had both sunk to the lowest they had been since the war.

~0o0~0o0~

"_Well, well, well. If it isn't a Miss Hermione Granger, than I don't know the girl in front of me." Harry leaned against one of the pillars that was holding up the roof to the small cafe. _

_Hermione's head jerked up with surprise, wildly frightened expression fleeing when she recognized the man in front of her. _

"_Harry!" She cried, setting down her book and jumping into his arms. He squeezed her, kissed the top of her head, and reluctantly let her go. It was true. Absence did make the heart grow fonder. _

_She laughed, and kissed his cheek. "I love you, Harry, but if you ever scare me like that again I will castrate you or something. If you and Ginny ever want to have children, you had better be careful."_

_Harry smiled tightly at the thought of his girlfriend. "Will do. How are you? Soaking up the sun in Greece, it seems."_

_When she smiled brightly, Harry could appreciate her tan even more the contrast it provided to her white teeth. "How ever did you know?" Even though he couldn't see her eyes behind the large sunglasses she was wearing, he knew they were alive with mirth. _

_Harry let his eyes drift down her body slowly. "You seem a lot browner than you usually do. Reminds me of the summer before third year."_

_Hermione chuckled. "They wanted tan. I put a slight glamour on myself. I'm just getting browner and browner for the summer. Swim suit season, you know." She flipped her long curls over her shoulder and smirked at him. "Have you been keeping tabs on me, Harry?"_

_Harry smirked right back. "Of course I have. I was in the area with my partner and I wanted to stop by and see you. I've missed you, you know." He pulled out a chair and sat down across from her, snatching her iced coffee. _

_Hermione snatched it right back. "No. This is mine," she said firmly, tapping his hand lightly. Calling over the waiter, she ordered another one for him in fluent Greek. "There you go. Now why are you in Greece?"_

_Shrugging sheepishly, Harry opened his mouth, then closed it. "Uh. Well. Really, I was in Albania. It wasn't that long of a trip."_

_Hermione shook her head in exasperation. "Of course I wasn't. I'm glad to see you." Her eyes narrowed. "You were in Albania investigating the Horcrux?"_

"_That's classified," Harry said arrogantly before breaking down in laughter. "I've always wanted to say that. But yeah, I'm not supposed to tell anyone. But since when has that applied to you and Ron?"_

_Hermione shrugged, and took a lazy sip of her drink. "Never, I guess. So how is it going?"_

"_Nothing much to be honest," Harry admitted, accepting his drink from the waiter with a grateful smile. "They are using my head as a Horcrux detector and by mouth as a snake-to-human translating device."_

_Hermione winced. "Not fun. At least not as fun as going out with me. Are you game?" She lowered her sunglasses and gave him a sultry look, one eyebrow raised and eyes glittering with secrets. _

_Harry hesitated, then copied her expression. "I'm game."_

_She stood, slinging her purse over her shoulder in a smooth motion that sent a wave of some flowery perfume over to Harry. "Come over the hotel at six. We can grab a bite then go to one of the clubs."_

_Harry stood as well, finishing his drink and throwing some money on the table. "See you then," he said, departing with a wave._

_He spent the day wandering around the city, returning the hotel around six, as asked by his best friend. He was just inside the door when he realized he had no idea what room she was in. _

"_Excuse me," he said to the man at the desk, speaking over the conversation of the group of young people behind him. "I need to know what room Lily Black is in."_

_A girl with large blue eyes and blonde hair squealed when she heard who he was there to see. "OMG! Greg, Mike, he's here to see Lily!" she called in a high pitched voice with the twang of an American accent._

_Harry stepped back from the desk. "You know Lily?" he asked warily, unsure of how to deal with the blonde. The menacing looks the tall man- Greg it seemed- in the muscle shirt were giving him were a bit off putting._

_Greg- or was it Mike?- put a large hand on the shoulder of the little blonde. "Lisa. We don't know if he really knows her or if he a crazy stalker or something."_

_Harry laughed. "I've known Lily since we were both eleven. It's weird to think of her having crazy stalkers." He frowned. "I need to do something about that," he muttered to himself. _

_The other girl with them, a- well, he didn't really know what to call a female with blue hair. A blue head? A blunette? Anyway, she shrugged, and flipped her long and very blue hair over her shoulder. "We might want to ask his name first. You know, maybe Lily's talked about him before or something."_

_Lisa smiled and bounced on her heels. "Great! Your always so smart, Allison. What's your name?"_

_The door man was watching with interest now, but Harry wasn't sure how much of the English he was understanding._

"_Harry Potter," he said with a grin. "Pleased to make your acquaintance."_

_Lisa shrugged. "That does it for me," she announced to the group. "Lily talks about him all the time, he has the 'amazing green eyes' and he speaks with an English accent. She's in room 13, Harry Potter."_

_Harry started for the hall, waving over his shoulder. "Thanks," he called. _

"_No prob," Lisa called back. "Tell Lily that we'll be up as soon as we get our rooms."_

_Harry nodded, then made his way to the room marked with a large 13. He knocked, and he could hear Hermione walk to the door in what sounded like wickedly high heels._

_She had obviously checked through the peephole, and then she flung open the door, pulling him into a hug. He could see that she already dressed to go out, in a sexy little white number that made her seem even tanner than she already was. It was rather short, and appeared even shorter with the high heels she was wearing that matched the gold jewelery and links on the dress. _**(Picture something like a tunic style dress with gold links on the shoulders)**

"_Harry!" She cried, molding her form to his own. "It's almost six fifteen. I thought you had to leave I hadn't gotten a chance to say goodbye."_

_He allowed himself to cling for a moment more, taking in the scent of her hair and the feeling of her body against his. "I would never do that to you, 'Mione."_

_She stiffened, pulling out of his arms. "Harry, as much as I love you-"_

"_Don't call you Hermione," he finished for her. "Sorry, _Lily_." He threw a glance of his own over his shoulder, then looked into her eyes. "No one is here anyway."_

_He heard the high bubbly laughter floating down the hall, then winced. "Let me amend that," he said, half dragging her into her room, "Your friends Greg, Mike, Lisa, and Allison are here."_

_Hermione chuckled nervously. "Ah. They are coming with us, if you don't mind."_

_Sighing, Harry flung himself on the couch. "Of course I don't mind. It's the first time I've seen you in a month and it's prolly the only chance I'll get for another month and we are going out the four slightly insane Americans."_

_She put her hands on her hips. "Harry. They invited- rather, Lisa invited- themselves along when I told them I was going out with someone tonight. And neither Lisa or Allison are slightly insane."_

_Harry groaned. "Allison seems okay. Lisa is more than slightly insane." A loud knock sounded on the door, and a voice called for Lily. "And they are here," he said with a frown. _

_Hermione walked over to Harry and hugged him tightly, pressing her lips to his cheek lightly. "I'm sorry our night is going to be interrupted. But we can still have fun," she whispered. _

_Harry smiled down at her, then kissed her on the forehead spontaneously. "Okay. But we ditch them at the club after a while. Deal?"_

"_Deal," she agreed, squeezing him again and going to answer the door. "Just remember my name."_

_Harry shook his head in exasperation. "Fine."_

_As soon as the door opened, Liza bounced through, squealing and hugging Hermione. Allison was more reserved, just giving her a smile and stepping into the room. _

_Harry could feel his eyes narrow and felt a- a protective feeling rise up within him when to two men just about lifted her off her feet with their hugs. She wasn't making it better, laughing and giggling. _

"_Put me down! Mike, I'm serious. Thank you. I want you to meet a very good friend of mine," she said all in one breath, taking him back to the days when he had been a little boy with a big scar and she had been a little know-it-all. _

_Liza hopped off the couch, and hugged Hermione again. "Yeah, we know him. We told him which room you were in."_

_Hermione went pale, with either rage or fright, Harry couldn't tell. "What? You just gave my room number to some random-"_

"_Oh, shut up, Hermione," the bubbly blonde said with a flap of her hand. "He said he was Harry Potter and he had the big ass scar on his forehead."_

_Allison stood, brushing invisible lint from a dress a shade darker than her vibrant hair. "He asked for you at the desk, anyway."_

_Hermione leaned against the desk in the room, still pale. Harry walked over to her, and hugged her tightly. "It was chance," he whispered, low and urgently, in her ear. "I knew where you were and which hotel you were in. And I highly doubt a Death Eater would use a phone book."_

_Her eyes were tightly closed, and her voice was barely audible when she spoke. "How did you know where I was? How did you find me? I thought I told all the Daily Prophet reporters to go away back in September, last year! Are they following me again?"_

_Glaring over Hermione's head, he answered, smiling in satisfaction when their eager audience looked away. "No. I knew where you were because I Googled it. So you are safe. And no one is coming after you, okay?"_

_She took a deep, shuddering breath. "Yeah. Thanks, Harry. Give me a sec to go grab my purse." She left the room hurriedly, obviously embarrassed._

_Harry cast a heavy glance around the crowded hotel room. The two boys looked uncomfortable, Mike with his arm around Allison. Liza was lounging in an armchair, pouting. _

"_What?" she said with an annoyed huff. "I didn't mean to upset her again."_

_Harry jerked in his seat. "Again?" he asked. "What happened last time?"_

_Greg folded his arms across his chest, glaring. "None of your business."_

"_Everything that has to with- with Lily is my business," Harry said hotly. "She is my-"_

_Hermione emerged from her room, pausing to take in the scene in front of her. "Well," she said with an eye roll. "It is official. I cannot leave you in a room with more than one male for ten minutes without returning to find you glaring at one of them, Harry." _

_Harry smiled at her, animosity almost forgotten. "Well, love, it's not my fault. And you can leave me in a room with any of the men in the Order." She gave her tinkling little laugh, making Harry smile wider._

"_Whatever, darling. However, I feel obliged to remind you that Viktor was at least an honorary member of the Order," she gave him a little smirk. "Try and refute that."_

_Shaking his head, he offered her his arm. "Are you read to go?" he asked the collective group before them. _

_Lily and Allison were staring with wide eyes, both obviously flabbergasted at the events that had just played out before them. Hermione blushed, and held Harry's arm tightly. "Well?" she asked, British accent crisper than ever._

_Allison recovered first. "Uh, yeah," she said, grabbing Mike's hand. "Let's go."_

_They left the room first, followed by Liza, then Greg, and finally Harry and Hermione. They caught two cabs outside the hotel, and Hermione was soon directing the drivers to a nice restaurant that wasn't too far away. Harry, Hermione, and Liza were in one cab and Allison, Greg, and Mike in the other. _

_The ride, short as it was, was far too long for Harry's tastes. The only word he could find to describe Liza was 'bouncy.' She didn't walk: she bounced. Even her speech went up and down like one of those little balls made of hard rubber. _

"_And so he was like, 'Well, too bad. You can't get in until six.' And I was like 'Well, too bad. I need to get in now.' And so I called the manager, and told him everything and the guy had to let me in early. I mean, duh. How else was I supposed to get shoes my size after everyone else had gone through them? They only had about fifty pairs."_

_Harry wished he could bang his head against the window without being rude. He could see that Hermione was no more interested in the conversation than he was, and grabbed her hand lightly, like she had done to him when they were in school. _

_She jumped slightly, then relaxed against his body. They had always had that kind of casual intimacy. She had been the one to initiate it, always being very affectionate with both him and Ron. It had given Ron ideas, of course, and he had thought she fancied him and decided she wouldn't make a bad wife. He had never let it get romantic with her. He hadn't though it would be possible for her to treat him like she did with Ron when they broke up- almost never hugging him, taking his hand, leaning against him when they sat together. She always made sure that there was space between them. And after so many years of her affection- she being the first person he could remember hugging him, kissing his cheek, holding his hand- he would be lost in this world without it. _

_Even now- after she left- they could be close. It hardly took them any time after being apart to fall back into their easy routine. Their friendship had been forged in the flames of war. The two of them being friends, best friends, had been the one constant in Harry's life since Halloween, 1991. They argued and they got mad, but they had never been been willingly separated._

_Until that night... and even then Hermione had made sure he knew, when almost no one else did, made sure he was alright with it. For all the words she had said to Ron about holding her back, he knew that if he had asked her to stay, she would have stayed. _

_But he had said nothing, accepting with a heavy heart and a guilty quiver in his stomach, pretending not to notice the way some fire that had always been in her eyes had just died. His relationship with her was straining his relationship with Ginny. And his relationship with Ron. He rationalized it in his head- they would still be best friends, only a little farther apart. She would get a job, live in America for a few months then come back when she felt more in control._

_He was jolted back into the present by Hermione pulling him out of the cab. They had arrived at the restaurant- a small place that seemed a little overwhelmed by the group of twenty-somethings that had just entered the small gyro shop. The fact that they were all speaking English rattled the girl at the counter, who looked more than a little nervous facing the task of serving six Americans._

_That was, until Hermione smiled kindly at her, and said something in Greek. The girl beamed at Hermione, saying something quickly in a high, sweet voice, that made Hermione laugh. The girl grabbed six menus and led them to a little table in the back of the empty restaurant._

_Greg looked around, and sniffed. "Strange place you took us to, Lily," he said, voice full of doubt in Hermione's eatery of choice. _

_She just shrugged. "Take it or leave it, laddie." She leaned into Harry, looking up at him in a manner that was so suggestively innocent, Harry had to bite back a groan. Why did little things like the way she looked at him make his so damn uncomfortable?_

"_What do you want, Harry?" she asked him, and his mind raced with a hundred answers._

_Instead, he just grinned at her. "Whatever you're having, darling," he said with a little bow. "Whatever the lady wishes."_

_Liza giggled. "Lily isn't going to eat, right?" The look she shot Hermione was incredulous, asking 'Why does he think you are going to _eat_?'_

_Harry frowned deeply, and turned to Hermione. "She is going to eat," he said quietly, taking in the way Hermione hesitated for a moment. Then more jovially, "She knows that if she doesn't, I'll drag her back to England, and to a place called the Burrow."_

_Laughing bitterly, Hermione shook her head. "Molly would rather poison me than fatten me up right now."_

_Allison had been regarding them with a quiet curiosity. "Why's that, Lily?" she asked, azure head tilted to the side._

"_Because I dumped her son," Hermione replied readily, pinching Harry under the table. "And I am going to eat."_

_Liza gasped. "Marco will kill you," she sang in a high voice. "You are a model, Lily. You should know by now that we don't eat."_

_Hermione locked eyes with Harry, a familiar glitter lighting them. It was the same dangerous sheen she always got before she broke every rule in the book: from breaking into Gringotts to brewing Polyjuice Potion in a girl's bathroom._

"_Screw that," she said eloquently. "I'm having a gyro." She smirked. "What about the rest of you?"_

_The boys just grinned with her and told her what they wanted. Allison had just a ghost of a smile on her face, ordering a salad. Liza just pouted. _

"_I'll have something offa Ali," was all she said. Hermione just waved over the girl, who took their order and left for the kitchens. _

_While they were waiting for the food to arrive, the rest of the table stared at Harry and Hermione until the looked at each other and sighed._

"_What?" asked Hermione crossly. "Do I have a six-fingered hand growing out of my forehead?"_

_Harry chuckled. "No, dear. It only has five fingers."_

_This time it was Hermione who cracked up. "Shut up," she told him. Then to the rest of the group: "What?"_

_It was Greg who asked to first question. "So how did you two meet?" _

_Harry asked her the question with his eyes, she was the one who answered. "He saved my life," she said truthfully. "We were eleven. By the time we were fifteen, he had done it another three times or so."_

_Mike raised an eyebrow, looking at Greg. "Kinda hard to compete with that," he said with a snort. _

_It appeared that Liza had already forgotten her earlier tiff with Hermione. "That is so romantic. You're like, the damsel in distress and he's your handsome prince!"_

_They looked at each other, and burst out laughing. "First," Harry said. "We aren't dating. We never have dated." He noticed that he didn't say they never would. He didn't know if Hermione had noticed or not. "Second," he continued, "There is no way anyone who knows her can mistake Her- Lily I mean- for a damsel in distress. That is just not in her nature. She's prolly rescued me more than I've rescued her."_

"_What kind of situations were you in that you need a girl to rescue you?" asked Greg with a ill hidden laugh. "Were you being attacked by a big bad wolf?"_

_Close, Harry thought to himself. Instead, he forced himself to laugh. "No. And you had best learn right now to never underestimate Lily."_

_He rose abruptly. "Lily- I am going to leave now I think," he said quickly. "I've got to report back to Headquarters and the Ministry. I'll catch up with you in Madrid- I made sure I got an assignment there for the week after next." _

_Ignoring her hurt expression, ignoring the way Liza was eyeing him, ignoring the way the girl who had seated them was staring, he left the restaurant._

_The walk in the balmy heat seemed to reorient him. Gods, he could be so stupid. This was probably the last time he would see Hermione for a few weeks if she was as mad at him as he thought she would be._

_He hated having Hermione mad at him. Not only was it not healthy if you wanted to keep all your body parts unharmed and attached to the proper places, but because he simply hated upsetting her. It wasn't that he was afraid of her- he could probably beat her in a duel, if it came down to it- although it was always wise to be at least wary of Hermione Granger. But when she was angry or mad, there was usually a good reason. Not always, but usually. It meant that he had disappointed her at the very least. _

_But those people she called friends- he really couldn't stand them. The Hermione he thought he knew would never be able to stand such shallow and annoying people for long amounts of time. It wasn't that they were Americans, he had no problem with that. It was that they seemed to project the very qualities Hermione had always hated. _

_He Apparated back to the hotel, appearing in an alley he had noticed the first time. He wasn't going to leave town with her still mad at him. It wouldn't be right._

_He was sleeping sitting up on the couch when she crept into the room at one in the morning. She shook him awake, eyes cold and hand on his shoulder removed as soon as he was conscious._

"_Hermione," he said groggily. "Mione. Give me a moment to wake up."_

"_Do you want to explain what you're doing on my couch?" she asked, sitting down on an arm chair to remove her shoes. "I'm tired, I want to get to bed. I'm on a plane at two tomorrow. And I'm pissed."_

"_Why though?" he asked, cracking his spine. "Tell me. Do you really value their opinions that much?" His weariness made his speak bluntly, and he didn't regret it. "The Hermione I know and love would never put up with people likes those. They seem 'nice' and all, but really, Hermione, you wouldn't have willingly gone for dinner with them, or gone dancing with them. In fact, the girl I knew never went dancing at all."_

"_No one could tell the Hermione you knew was a girl at all," Hermione shot back. "Maybe I like being able to goof off and have a good time, with 'nice' people. Maybe I like going dancing." She turned away from him. "What if I like being the center of attention? What if I enjoy having men want me for something other than my brain? What is the harm?"_

_Harry stared at her, feeling something within him break. "Well. That settles it." He slipped on his shoes and walked to the door of her room, stopping in front of the mirror to try and flatten his hair. _

"_That settles what?" snapped Hermione, hands on hips._

_Harry looked at her, eyes hard and cold. "The Hermione I knew no longer exists. The best friend I ever had has died. All that is left is a pretty face who cares more about shoes and pictures than her friends."_

_Hermione looked as if he had punched her in the stomach. Her face was devoid of all color, her hand was fluttering at her chest, her eyes were wide with fright._

"_Harry?" she asked desperately. "Harry, don't do this! Don't-"_

"_Don't what?" he asked, leaning against the door. "Don't leave you to the life you wanted to live? Don't let you go so you can 'find yourself?' Don't step back and watch you have the ride of your life?" He messed his hair with his hand, a nervous gesture he had adopted somewhere around fifth year. "I'm leaving now, Lily."_

"_Hermione," she whispered, voice barely audible. "My name is Hermione."_

"_Not anymore," he said, refusing to look at her. "Hermione Granger is the first person I realized I loved. She was a sister, a friend, a part of me. We were so close, that we could have conversations without ever opening our mouths. She was one third of Harry Potter." His voice had softened and warmed, now it turned harder. "Lily Black is a girl who I don't recognize. She is nothing like Hermione Granger."_

"_Why are you being so mean to me?" she cried, tears streaming down her cheeks. "I am Hermione Granger! I love to read and learn more than almost anything in the world. The only thing- person- who is more important is you! Harry-" she collapsed. "I don't know what to do. If you hate them so much, I won't see them any more, I promise."_

"_That isn't it!" he shouted. "It isn't just the people! You aren't the person you used to be!"_

"_Neither are you!" she yelled right back."No one is forever the same person they were at eighteen!"_

"_But at least my values haven't changed! What do you think McGonagall would do if she saw you right now? What about Ron?" he asked. _

_She didn't say anything. "What do you want?" she asked wearily. "Is it what you really want? To separate us this way forever? If you walk out that door right now, then we will never be the same." When he didn't move, didn't say anything, her voice cracked. "Is this your excuse? You don't want to bother with me anymore? You want us to part ways?"_

"_Anything but," he said at least, voice tired. "I want us to go back to being innocent firsties."_

"_I want us to go back to being friends," she said softly. "I want my Harry back. My just Harry, who never wanted the fate thrust upon him."_

"_Well, I'm right here!" he exploded. "Why don't you care about me anymore?"_

_She looked at him, completely shocked. "Harry. I look forward to your visits more than anything else. I wish I could be living up the stair case next to you again but-"_

"_Then why don't you?" he asked bitterly. "Why don't you come back to me? Are you so happy?"_

_She thought for a moment or two. "I am happier than I was."_

_Harry stepped away from the door, and was soon standing close to her, towering above her. "And what about me? Does my happiness matter?"_

_Hermione reached up a hand, and laid it against Harry's cheek. "At one point, it meant the world to me. But sometimes I need to come first in my life. But that doesn't mean I don't care for you."_

"_Then what does it mean?" asked Harry. "Tell me."_

_She shook her head sorrowfully. "There are things you don't know, Harry. Things you many never know. Things I want to shield you from."_

_His anger had evaporated. There were things he had kept from her as well, one secret from the girl who knew all his secrets. "I understand." He bent down and enveloped her in his arms, burying his head in her wild curls, realizing that he was being stupid- how could he have almost chosen to never again hug Hermione, never again take in her scent and the shape of her body?_

"_I'm being an ass, Hermione. I'm sorry," he whispered in her hair. "I'm a stupid, selfish, ignorant man."_

"_Will you leave me?" she asked in that tone of complete and utter heartbreak. "Will you ever do that again? Threaten to dissolve our friendship now that you know I would do anything to keep it whole?"_

"_Never again," he promised. "Never again."_

_That was when she came apart in his arms, sobbing and hitting him over and over with her little fists. When the hour changed from two to three, she was still in his arms, having cried herself out. She had finally fallen asleep._

_~0o0~0o0_

She was sleeping now, heavily. He stood carefully, watching as she snuggled closer to him in her sleep. The morning after he had almost broken their friendship, they had awoken on the couch together, looked at each other, then fell into a hug.

He remembered how she had almost started crying again. This time, instead of watching, he wiped away her tears, and when he had to leave, he did so with a promise to meet her in Spain for a much needed talk.

They had talked, and they were closer than ever now. Their relationship had changed, but Harry thought it was for the better, not for the worst.

And he hoped he was right.

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><p><strong>Well, not exactly an easy chapter to write. I want your opinion. <strong>

**The feedback means a lot to me. If tells me if you enjoy reading my work, what I need to work on, and has the added benefit of making my heart lighter every time I see that little blue number get higher.**

**Review, please. I hope you liked this chapter.**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N- Hello all! RL has been a bitch lately. I'm so tired… and I have an awful cold. Or maybe it's strep. Anyway, the internet at my house isn't working, so all I can do is write. And write I have! Hopefully, the school internet will be working by now so I can update… **

**This chapter is transitory, but introduces some plot! I need all the reviews you can give me. An English teacher at my school just told me that my writing style is rubbish, and the short story I asked her to read "Needs plenty of work." Believe me, nothing makes you feel more like crap than being told you can't write and having what may be strep throat. **

**Enjoy!**

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><p>"Are you awake? Hermione?" Harry's soft voice, the same one that had murmured to her as she had fallen into a decidedly deep sleep, rumbled deep in his chest.<p>

"Yeah," she said stretching. "You know you could have left, right?" She must look like a mess. Her hair lapsed back to first year at night. It took a shower and some magic muggle shampoo to make it look like anything but a bushy mess.

She could hear him chuckle, and opened her eyes to see him buttoning a white shirt and throwing robes over that and a pair of slacks. His hair was just barely messier than hers was- pointing every which way as it had done since their days in school.

Hermione let herself wonder for a moment what it would be like to wake up to Harry getting ready for work every morning. But then reality hit and she brutally shoved that thought away.

"I wouldn't do that, Mione," he said, attempting to fix his hair in her mirror. "Do you have something that would help?" He gave her one of those irresistible puppy dog looks, a mix of cute helplessness and hope.

"Check under the sink in the bathroom," she called out, walking to the kitchen. "I'll start the tea if you'll make the bed." Harry's answer came as she boiled the water, pulling her red silk robe tighter around herself.

She tried to run her fingers through her hair, but failed miserably. "Calm down, Granger," she muttered to herself. "It's not exactly the first time you've ended up in bed together." _And hopefully not the last,_ she finished in thought alone.

From the bathroom, she could hear a shout of joy as Harry succeeded in finding the potion she used to control her hair. It made her smile to herself as she started the tea, humming quietly.

She grabbed two mugs from the cabinet above the stove, along with a teapot. "Tea's just about ready," she said louder.

"What was that?" Harry asked, sliding into the kitchen, hair still charmingly askew, but more presentable for the Ministry. "Thanks, love."

Hermione just shook her head, watching him with fond eyes. "Nothing. Are you ready for work?"

"Yes," Harry said uncertainly, then snapped his fingers. "I knew I was forgetting something. I need to leave now to stop by my place. Left a file there."

He pulled her into a hug, and pressed a kiss to her forehead. "If you need anything, Floo me." The hard muscle of his body against hers was disconcerting. What had happened to the skinny kid she had known when she was twelve?

She clutched at him for a moment, and then forced herself to release him. "I know. Off to work with you."

"What are you doing for dinner?" Harry asked, almost out the door. "I could bring take out."

Hermione smiled, leaning against the door frame. "Sounds good."

The moment she heard the door to the stairs close, her smile dropped from her face and she sagged against the door frame. She could not decide if her relationship with Harry was healthy or not. When she was around him, she was on a roller coaster of emotion- comfortable and happy one moment- overflowing with depression and a deep rooted anger the next.

When she was without him she was not just extreme- she was racing against time and crashing into crazy nights. Either feeling everything with an acuity that was bordering on painful, or dead to the world. Numb. Floating through life in a fog that held no meaning. There was some sadness, some happiness. Exhilaration pierced with smoky gray darts of depression.

And what about Harry? Was he happy that she was back? He had asked, begged even, for her to return. Now that she was in London, living in her flat, sending him off to work with a cup of tea and a kiss, did he regret it?

_No_, she told herself firmly. _I will not start down that path. I need to do something._ She needed to visit Kate.

Kate. That would be fun. The tall blonde agent who had helped Hermione since the beginning had been totally shocked by Hermione's- or rather, Lily's- decision to leave the modeling world. She had an office in London, where she had promised to meet Hermione to discuss what would happen next.

Hermione walked through her flat, stopping at her living room where she sat down with the large tome Harry had asked her about just days ago. It scared her as much as ever, facing the possibility of never getting better. More even, if she considered the fact that Harry could be affected as much as she was.

She finished her meager breakfast, then showered and dressed, wearing one of her favorite dresses. With a high neckline and no sleeves, it gave her a decidedly strong appearance, the cinched belt accentuating her waist and the pale grey a shade darker than the diamond around her slender neck.

Inner self strangely calm, Hermione stared at herself in the mirror. _When did I become this?_ she asked herself. A few inches taller with the heels, whiskey colored eyes hidden beneath large sunglasses, usually untamable hair in a loose bun at the base of her neck, few freckles hidden with makeup, Hermione Granger looked like Lily Black.

_No surprise there,_ Hermione thought. _Who am I kidding? I'm her. She is me. _That thought was sobering. Lily Black was kind, but distant. She watched with far away eyes, almost mechanical in her movements. But then something would change- her eyes would become desperately alive, filled with the bone deep terror that Hermione Granger couldn't allow herself to feel in the moment. And then the moment would pass. A grin would spread across her face, sudden pallor disappearing as cheeks turned rosy. A night of wild partying would follow, until work the next day. And the cycle would repeat again.

At least Lily Black had never been in a war. At least Lily Black had an amazing career- the kind teenage girls dreamed of. At least Lily Black had never killed a human being. At least Lily had chance to have children, to marry, to live.

Because Hermione Granger had lived through war. Because Hermione Granger had never graduated from Hogwarts. Because Hermione Granger had killed, and maimed, and yes- she had even been tortured. Because Hermione Granger would never bear a child, the man she might love she had always thought of as her brother, and she had stopped living a while ago.

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><p>Harry strode out of the elevator, and into the Auror department, a small smile on his usually grim face. Despite the hero worship most of the wizarding world had shown in the time after Voldemort had been defeated, they were still capable of spreading rumors about their savoir. And one of them was that he was almost never happy, "since he broke up with that nice Weasley girl, anyway."<p>

Ignoring the usual whispers trailing behind him, Harry entered the break room, making his way over to where his partner was sitting with two other men, and one of the few women in the department.

"Morning," he said cheerfully, sitting down with a thump. "Anything important today?"

Alexandra- or Alex, as she preferred to be called- raised a disbelieving eyebrow. "Well. What's made your day, sunshine?"

Her partner, a middle-aged wizard who everyone called Woody laughed. "Methinks Potter finally got laid."

Ben, Harry's partner, shook his head. "Nah. The only girls in Potter's life are taken, or too good for him."

"Sure," Harry grumbled, still unable to hide his grin. "Pick on the new guy."

"You won't be new for long," Alex informed him. "We're getting a fresh shipment of rookies in next Monday. The Ministry just went through a hiring spree. They had to redo the basics for the ones who weren't in your little Army."

After the war, Harry did not get to begin the Auror Academy for almost two years. He had actually started just a few days before Hermione left- at her urging of course. It was one year of training, in everything from Magical Law to defensive and offensive spells used only by the Aurors. When he finished, he was partnered with Benjamin Rainer- a tough Auror who had known Moody before the man's untimely death.

"Well it is about time," Harry mused thoughtfully. "How many are we getting?"

"Just four or five," Woody replied. "The usual." He sighed as he poured a cup of coffee. "You would think not even five years after the war people would still remember what it was like."

Ben closed his eyes, the said gruffly, "You're surprised? They never remember the sacrifices made for their safety." He stood, then nodded toward Harry. "You did a good thing, Potter, when you ended that bastard's life. But you learn not to expect much in return."

Harry stood as well, then said, "I know. The 'public opinion' can turn so quickly. Do you remember the Triwizard?"

"Hell yeah," Alex said with a smirk. "How many guys did the Prophet say your girlfriend slept with?"

"And then as soon as she becomes famous in her own right they love her," Harry said with a scowl. "And Hermione wasn't my girlfriend. She only ever went out with Krum."

"She wasn't as much of a looker as she is now," Jackson said, sitting down next to them. "Morning." Harry glared at him, not at all surprised at the blonde man.

Alex and Woody exchanged glances, and then rose to join Harry and Ben, leaving Jackson alone at the table. "Sorry, Jacky," Woody said calmly. "We've got that one case of a S. M. D. out in Surrey." Suspicious Muggle Deaths were becoming less common, but still happened far too often for anyone's comfort.

Harry was visibly upset about something, as Ben noticed almost right away. He commented on it as well, in his straightforward manner.

"What's bothering you, Harry?" Harry looked back toward the staff room where Jackson was sitting with his other colleagues, enjoying the brief time they had in the morning before the paperwork started.

All of a sudden, Hermione's face when she woke up in the morning swam to the front of his mind. "Blondie." It wasn't entirely her beauty, although that was certainly part of what he was feeling. It was the way she had been moments before- totally relaxed and liquid in his arms. Breathing softly, at ease in the same arms she had been sobbing into the night before.

"You don't like the way he was talking about your friend?" Ben asked. As always, he was intuitive.

Harry's forehead wrinkled for a moment, and finally, he nodded. "Yeah. Hermione and I-"

"Hogwarts buddies," Ben suggested. "We all know what it's like. Boarding school friendships are always close."

They had arrived at the desk, where the secretary handed them a thin file. Ben accepted it, looking over the details of the death. They had left the Department when Harry spoke again.

"Yeah. We're Hogwarts buddies. But it's a lot more than that. She's been through Hell and back for me." Harry looked at the floor, stopping before they reached the corridor with the lifts.

Ben paused as well, then spoke again, tone darker this time. "I remember that. She was held by Bellatrix Lestrange, wasn't she?" Ben spat her name like a curse. "I was amazed she got out of that one. The House Elf helped, you, right?"

"Yeah," Harry said. "She wouldn't give me up. You ever get Crucio'd by Bella?"

"Nah," Ben said shaking his head. "I wasn't on her radar, thank God. But I knew the Longbottoms."

The Longbottoms had died not long ago, while still in St. Mungo's. Harry had attended their funeral. "They might have it better than Hermione does." Harry said slowly. "The Frank and Alice Longbottom were torture for a few hours. Hermione was held for days."

The older man frowned, and looked at Harry with troubled eyes. "What do you mean by that, Potter?"

"No one has ever studied the long-term effects of the Cruciatus curse," Harry said quietly. "Everyone who had enough time under it either went crazy or died. Hermione didn't die."

Ben's eyebrows shot up. "Are you saying that Granger is-"

"No!" Harry said loudly, then glanced around. "I don't know. I don't think so. But she's falling apart. I don't know what to do."

"Are you in love with her?" Ben's quiet query took Harry by surprise.

Instead of answering right away, Harry hesitated. "I love her. I'm just not sure if I'm in love with her. I know more about her than anyone else, and vice versa. There is no way you can be that close to someone and not love them. I'm also attracted to her. That's obvious- Hermione is a beautiful woman. I'm just not really sure."

Ben nodded. "Okay. That's a jumble, no doubt. But why are you telling me?"

"I want you to meet her," Harry said. "I want you to meet the girl who made me who I am."

Ben snorted. "Don't give me that bullshit. You want me to tell you if she's going nuts."

"Maybe," Harry admitted. "I wouldn't know. But you have some experience with this."

Ben had been eighteen when he had married, right out of Hogwarts. The young woman he had married had a hereditary magical condition that ran in some of the pureblood circles. The condition had developed because of intensive inbreeding. He had watched as his beautiful young wife went crazy, trapped inside her own head until she took her life.

"You're right," Ben said. "I do. But if she is going crazy-"

"But maybe she's not," Harry interrupted. "She has as many problems as I do. Maybe even more. But that doesn't mean she's crazy."

"Okay," Ben said with a sigh. "When can I meet her?" He started walking to the lifts again, and Harry followed, the lost grin again taking over his face.

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><p>Hermione walked into the tall building in what could be arguably called the busiest section of London. She paused outside the door, hesitating before entering the building. Through the glass doors, she could see a large image of her own face, hair spread out for a shampoo commercial. She winced slightly. Even with her large sunglasses, they would recognize her.<p>

_No use waiting,_ she said to herself, then entered the building, keeping her back straight and walking with confidence. The inside of the building was crisp and modern, her face dominating the wall behind the receptionist, and the faces of other models she knew on the other walls. There was an area to wait, done all in white and glass.

The receptionist, probably a girl interning for the summer and hoping to get a job later, didn't look up when Hermione approached the desk. She didn't take off her glasses, half hoping the receptionist didn't get an opportunity to look behind her often.

The click of her heels on the floor stopped, and Hermione waited for the girl to look up from magazine she was reading.

"Hello, my name is Anne-Marie and I welcome you to the London Branch of International Modeling Agency. How can I help you?" the girl said in a bored voice.

Hermione grinned a bit. "I'm here to see Kathrin Pierce." Her tone was cold, but polite. It was enough to make the girl look up from her magazine- if only to check the appointment book.

"Do you have an appointment?" The girl said pointedly. "Ms. Pierce will not see anyone without an appointment."

"I'm not just anyone," Hermione said wryly. "Kate will see me. I'm Lily Black." When she heard Hermione's fake name, the girl looked up, large brown eyes wide.

She glanced at Hermione's face, then spun her chair to look behind her. Then she spun again and faced Hermione. "Right away, Ms. Black!"

She stood, sliding out of the area behind the desk, motioning for Hermione to follow her. "Would you like anything to drink? Tea, coffee?"

"No thank you," Hermione said taking off her sunglasses, and putting them in her purse. "How long has the ad for that French shampoo been up there?"

Anne-Marie looked surprised at the question. "It's been here since at least June. You didn't know?"

Hermione shook her head. "No, this is the first time I've visited the London office. Kate mentioned something about them using the ad for décor, but I never thought it would actually happen." She laughed nervously.

By that time, she and the receptionist had reached the small circle of chairs around a coffee table in front of Kate's office. Hermione sat down, folding her legs neatly and picking up a magazine. "Tell Kate to finish whatever she's doing. I have time."

The girl nodded, and knocked on the door to the office, then opened it, peeking her head inside. "Ms. Pierce?"

Hermione could hear her friend's voice as she snapped at the receptionist. "I told you I was not to be bothered today! Gustavo, hold on a sec, would you, hon? What is it?"

Hermione could see the girl quailing under Kate's annoyed assault. "Don't be so hard on her, Kate," she said, putting down the magazine and standing, making her way to the door. "I told her you would see me."

Kate squealed when she heard Hermione's voice, leaping up from her seat behind the large, cluttered desk. "Lily!"

Hermione entered Kate's office, giving the tall blonde a hug. "Kate. How are you doing?"

"Fine, fine," Kate said with a wave of her hand. "You look good!" Hermione laughed.

"Thanks. Are you going to introduce me to…" Hermione trailed off as she looked at the man gazing at her with obvious interest.

"Gustavo," he said, rising and offering her a large hand. He had to be at least six feet tall, towering over her. "I've heard a lot about you, Ms. Black." He had a light accent, one that made Hermione smile.

Hermione took the hand, giving it a firm shape. "I'm sorry I can't say the same thing. Kate?" She gave her friend and former agent a raised eyebrow.

"This is Gustavo Montoya, a fashion designer from Mexico. He was here to discuss the models he wants for his fashion show in London this week," Kate said, walking to the bookcase that housed albums with pictures of the various models employed by the International Modeling Agency. "I was just about to show him some pictures."

"I don't need any," Gustavo interrupted. "I want Lily." He crossed his arms and examined her face, running his eyes over her body. "She is perfect."

Kate paused, then looked at Hermione, a carefully innocent expression coming over her face that Hermione knew meant she wanted Hermione to take the job.

"Lily," Kate started. "This would be a great opportunity-" Hermione sighed. This needed to be done- but, did it need to be done so soon?

"No." Hermione said flatly. "Not going to happen, Kate." She crossed her arms. "I told you that I'm not modeling anymore." She hoped she sounded convincing.

Gustavo shook his head. "How old are you, mi jita?" He scanned her face again. "Your eyes tell me ancient, but your body tells me twenty."

Hermione's head rose, eyes flashing in anger. "I'll be turning twenty-one in September."

"Then why quit this career?" Gustavo said, voice smooth as honey. "You'll make money. You already are a star."

"No," Hermione said. "It's simple. I don't need model anymore. I've traveled the world for two years. I did what I wanted to do, I saw what I wanted to see. Now I am done."

Both Gustavo and Kate were obviously surprised.

"Lily, darling-" Kate said with a wide smile.

"Surely you don't-" Gustavo began.

The both stopped and looked at each other, then Gustavo spoke again. "I could make it worth your while."

"Money?" Hermione asked with a derisive laugh. "I've got enough of that to live off of for years. I already have a job doing specialized research somewhere else. I'll be paid more than enough." However, in the back of her mind, the idea did sound appealing.

"Ms. Black," Gustavo said slickly, "Do you have a new man in your life?"

Hermione startled visibly. "So what if I do?"

"Has he ever seen you dressed in the finest French silk lingerie? Or the latest fashions straight from the States? " Gustavo asked. "Has he ever been to one of your shows?"

"No," Hermione said. "And I don't think-" She stopped, and thought for a second.

"Please?" Kate asked. "Lily, honey, you just left the modeling scene. You can use this to publically announce your departure. It would be good PR. And it would give your friends a chance to see you up on the runway."

Hermione hesitated, then spoke. "I need to think about it. When is the show?"

"Saturday," Gustavo said. A large smile was growing across his handsome features. "And I will give you as many free passes as you want."

Kate grinned, and clapped her hands. "Great. When can you get back to me?"

"By Thursday," Hermione said slowly. "I'm still not sure if I want to do this."

Gustavo nodded. "Of course not. But do you want to look at some of what you might be modeling. Will you take a look?"

Hermione nodded, and she and Kate sat down to review the book he had brought with him. It was full of sketches, all showing slim women with pale skin and wild hair modeling various outfits.

"I love your hair," Gustavo said softly. "The wildness behind the demure features. The riot of curls. The gentle eyes. I've seen some of your shows, about a year ago. You inspired me." His fingers played in the loose bun at the base of her head, then quickly yanked out the pins that held it up, letting her heavy hair fall down her back.

"See?" he said. "Beautiful."

Hermione smirked. "You are an awful liar. What other colors did you make this in?" She pointed a dress, drawn on a model with blonde hair. "Just about any other color than orange would go better with my coloring."

Kate looked down on it with a critical eye. "I can see that on you in a dark blue, Lily. What do you think, Gus?"

"I will see that it is done," he announced. "Anything else, Ms. Black?"

"Yes," Hermione said smartly. "My bobby pins."

Gustavo chuckled and handed them to her with a smirk. "Of course."

Hermione and Kate continued to peruse the pages of the book, pointing various dresses and styles out to each other. Hermione particularly like a pair of slacks and blazer in the "Work" section, and a bathing suit in another one.

Kate gasped, then pointed to an evening gown on another page. "I love it. Lily, you have to wear this Saturday."

"I didn't say I was going Saturday," Hermione said quickly. "Email me the pictures later. I've got to go." She stood, grabbing her purse and giving Kate a quick hug. "I'll call you Thursday."

Kate stood as well, leading her to the door. "You should come to lunch with me. There is this lovely Italian restaurant not far from here, we could grab a bite."

Hermione smiled softly. "What time?"

"Late lunch sound good?" Kate asked. "We meet at Anthony's at one?"

"Sure," Hermione said, giving her friend another hug. "I think we need to catch up."

"Definitely," Kate agreed. "Hey- What are you doing tonight?"

The question caught Hermione by surprise. "I'm having dinner with Harry."

Kate pouted prettily. "You think you and your man would be interested in swinging by one of the hottest parties in London?"

"I don't think so," Hermione said with a laugh. "He seems eager to have me to himself for a night."

It was after Hermione left the building that she realized that she had never told Kate that Harry was not actually her man.

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><p><strong>What do you think? Should Hermione do the show? Vote at my poll!<strong>

**Please review. I need all the happy thoughts I can get right now. Every time I pass by that teacher's room, my stomach curls. I know every author gets rejected at least once, but it REALLY hurts. I never knew how much until now.**

**I'm going to be stuck in the woods this weekend, getting eaten by mosquitos and other creepy-crawlies. Wish me luck!**

**Review, vote, donate coffee to a tired IB student. Believe me, they need it. :)**


	7. Chapter 7

**Holy moly this took a long time to write. Sorry 'bout that, people. But doesn't this make a perfect Christmas present? I do love Christmas… last year I got this laptop… although I must admit this year, nothing as great as Maggie. (my laptop. Yes, I named it. No, I am not crazy, and no, I would not like those little pills. I'm fine, thank you.)**

**Enjoy, everyone. And when you are done, if you are in a Christmas-y kind of spirit, do me a favor and check something out for me.**

**If you speak French, also check something out… my cousin's stories on this site. It's in my favorites.**

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><p>Hermione checked her watch again, and sighed. It was so like Kate to be late to a meeting like this. She was a busy woman, constantly swarmed by designers and companies and magazines. The restaurant she had chosen was nice- as always, Kate had taste. It was small and quaint, in a way, dark on the interior with succulent smells drifting into the main dining area from the kitchen. The pizzas were shoveled into large ovens on wooden paddles, and the tablecloths were checkered red and white, topped with a glass vase with summer flowers. It was just the sort of thing she loved.<p>

She let her gaze wander from the busy kitchen to the bright spot of light cast by the post-noon sun in the welcome area. When she spotted her friend, tall and imperious and walking with a brisk, sharp step that let everyone know she meant business, she felt her face crack into a smile.

"Sorry I'm late, hon," Kate said, brash American accent cutting through the quiet murmur of other patrons. "Don't hold it against me, will you?"

Hermione rose to hug her friend again. "Not at all. What were you busy with this time?" Kate gave a dramatic sigh as she plopped into her seat, slinging her purse over the chair.

"Everything and nothing. Gwen was in right after you left, she was just furious that she missed you. Chewed out my ass for not calling her." Hermione laughed, shaking her head thinking about her friend and fellow model.

Gwen was a French model she had meet in Paris, during her first few months modeling. The girl was popular for the same reasons Hermione was- she had the same kind of frail, angelic beauty that made her stand out in a crowd. Tall, blonde, and with the most beautiful blue eyes Hermione had ever seen, Gwen was nothing like what she looked like. She was intelligent, feisty, and a terrible flirt with a sultry French accent. She was the one who had introduced Hermione to Jean-Baptiste, as well as the one who told her to dump him. She had Hermione had developed a close relationship, one that photographers used when they needed girls who contrasted each other but could look like best friends for a shoot. She was one of the few people Hermione really missed.

"Yoohoo. Earth to Lily. And you're back." Kate leaned back in her chair, and smirked at Hermione. "She is doing the Gustavo show. She misses you."

Hermione picked up a menu. "You're shameless." She used the leather bound menu to hide her grin as Kate cackled in amusement.

"Yes. Yes I am. But I need you. And Gustavo didn't stop talking about you for the rest of his visit." Kate leaned forward again, and grabbed on of Hermione's hands. "Please? Pretty please? With an cherry on top?" And whipped cream?" Misreading Hermione's look, she pouted even wider. "Non-fat whipped cream that tastes as good as the real stuff?"

"I told you I'd think about it," Hermione said crossly. "What are you having?" _Let me guess,_ she thought. _Salad._

"Salad," Kate said, letting go of Hermione's hand. "You are freezing, girlie. Get something hot." She winked, and adopted a decidedly mischievous demeanor. "And speaking of hot…" She trailed off. "Aren't you going to tell me about Harry?" Hermione shifted uncomfortably, switching her legs, and fidgeting in her chair.

Hermione groaned inwardly. "There is nothing to tell. I'll have the lasagna." She caught the waiter's eye, and lifted a finger and an eyebrow.

"Yes, miss?" It was probably a uni kid, and Hermione resolved to give him a big tip. She had always felt a twinge of guilt for never continuing with a Muggle education. Maybe she would remedy that in the near future.

Hermione smiled gently at him, and laughed inwardly as he blushed. Boys. "I'll have the lasagna. Small, please. Kate?"

"Salad, no dressing, croutons, or cheese," Kate rolled off with a practiced air. "And a glass of wine. Red. What do you have?"

As the waiter answered her, Hermione looked out the window, blinking slightly at the light. The restaurant was a tad too dark for her tastes, but it did give the illusion of privacy. Finally Kate sent the waiter away, returning her attention to Hermione.

"I want to know about this boy who made you leave on of the most profitable careers a girl can have." She scowled. "I'm losing a lot of my income because of him. And the public will mourn once word officially gets out."

"It isn't like that," Hermione protested, brow wrinkling, then flattening out with the almost audile snap of habit. "Yes, Harry wanted me to come home, but I could model just as easily from London. I'm the one who wanted to leave." She closed her eyes, and delicately squeezed the bridge of her nose. "It was _my_ decision. I-"

She stopped, unsure of whether or not to say more. Kate, however, wanted to know the truth. "What, Lily. What?"

Hermione looked at her friend with large, pleading eyes. "I ran away. And that was wrong. So I came back. And that is all there is to it." She didn't feel as her posture and eyes changed from supplicating to determined, but Kate did.

"Lily. Baby, if you're in trouble I can help you out. You know that." Kate was obviously confused, and even a bit shocked. "What exactly?"

Hermione giggled derisively. "I was running from my life, to be partially honest. But look! Lunch is here." They were presented with their food, and even took a few bites before resuming the conversation.

"So you need to put things to rights?" asked the agent. "You need to do what you need to do?" She seemed defeated, and accepting. Hermione had the sneaking suspicion that it was a ploy; it was just like the tall blonde.

Hermione considered it for a moment, savoring the taste of the finely made lasagna. "Yes. That is one way of putting it."

"Then put things in your other life to rights, Lily!" Kate said earnestly. "Do this last show. Tie up loose ends. And maybe you can come back one day. Show one life the other. I want to meet the people you've always talked about. Harry and Ronald and Luna and Neville. You've spoken of them like they were your family, not your friends."

"They are my family," Hermione replied. "My parents- they hated me. I did something unforgivable and they hated me for it. And then they died. So my friends are my family." She shrugged, at the shock on Kate's face. "I wasn't close to my parents anymore. Boarding school, you know."

She forced herself to stop fidgeting like a five year old in church. Hermione hated the pity she saw in the eyes of those she both knew and didn't know when they learned about her parents. It had been the common expression on the faces of everyone she saw in the weeks after the _Prophet _had run the story. Just days after her parents all but disowned her, some of the unfound Death Eaters had murdered them. Theirs was not classified as a Suspicious Muggle Death- no, the Dark Mark above the house placed it firmly in the Voldemort Revenge Killing category.

"I'm so sorry," Kate said softly. "Damn me and my big mouth. I should have known not to mention family." _And she should have too_, Hermione thought. How many times had she found a reasonable- or unreasonable- excuse to leave as soon as family was discussed? It was only in the last few months Hermione felt less guilt and sorrow and rage at their deaths. Harry's unit finally bringing in some of the last untried Death Eaters helped somewhat, and time had healed more.

But she just pasted a bland smile of her face and shook her head. "It's fine, Kate. And I was the one who brought it up, I guess. But you're right, in a way. I do want to show some my friends what exactly I've been doing for the last two years." Before, the thought of Harry or Ron at a fashion show would have been ridiculous. But now, even if it was just in her head, she could see it happening. It would be good for them to see her in what had become her world.

Kate beamed at her. "That's the spirit, baby girl! And think of your man seeing you in that gorgeous gown- the one with the long sleeves and skirt and the open back? In…" Kate frowned, and tapped the edge of her fork against her full lower lip. "Not white, or black. Scarlet. Maybe violet. Emerald. Gold. Bronze?"

"Not white," Hermione agreed. "That'd make it look too much like a wedding gown. I like the idea of it in a deep forest green, or red." Then she realized what she had said, and scowled. "I still haven't decided for sure yet," she announced, unsure if it was futile or not. "And Harry is not my man."

The corner of Kate's eyes crinkled as she smirked smugly. "Interesting how he is the first one you thought of, especially with Jon on this side of the pond. How is the rascal anyway?"

The conversation moved on from there, but Hermione's thoughts kept darting back to the fashion show. She wanted to do it. It was almost pulling her- the idea seemed better and better as it ripened in her mind. She would invite Harry and Ron, Neville, Luna if she felt up to it, Ginny, and George. That was five, maybe six people. Ginny would love to get dressed up. And she felt that she could force the boys into nice suits.

As she was exchanging goodbyes with Kate, and leaving a good tip for the waiter, she paused suddenly, and broke into a huge smile. "I'll talk to him," she said, fighting the urge to giggle.

"What?" Kate asked, raising an eyebrow. "Who?"

Hermione gave her one of her 'special' camera smiles. This was the one that said, 'You and I have a secret,' and it made everyone smile back. "Harry. I'll see if he feels like going to a fashion show. And I'll ask some of my other friends."

Kate squealed and leaned over, wobbling uneasily in her heels, to hug Hermione. "Great! I'll be so excited. Call me tomorrow morning?"

"Sure," Hermione said, returning her friend's hug. "But my friends are more than a little unusual. I'll warn you now."

A few hours later, Harry and Hermione were sitting on the floor of Hermione's living room, eating Lao Mein and Sesame Chicken, relaxing and laughing together. Two wine glasses full of cranberry juice rested on the formerly pristine coffee table, the coffee table now littered with white and red cartons full of noodles and rice.

"So," said Hermione, clacking her chopsticks together. "How was your day?" She tilted her head to look at him, snorting when he fumbled with his chopsticks and dropped a piece of chicken on his lap.

Harry mock glared at her, then twitched his fingers to call a napkin from a pile on the other side of the table. "Fine. We thought we had another suspicious Muggle Death, but the house fire was the fault of a gas leak, not any curses or hexes we know. And my partner Ben wants to meet you."

It was Hermione's turn to drop her food in shock, although she recovered enough to make it land on her plate instead of her carpet or lap. "What?" Harry just grinned at her, in the exact same way he had since their first year. Sometimes it was all she could do from jumping on the man, and other times all she could see was the scrawny eleven year old.

"I want you to meet my partner, Ben. And he wants to meet you too," Harry repeated, enjoying her surprise. "I thought we'd invite him over for dinner."

"At your place, right?" Hermione asked, smirking when Harry blushed and stammered.

He was adorable when he was flustered. "If you want. I'm sorry, 'Mione. I didn't mean to sound rude." He looked so helpless, Hermione couldn't help laughing.

"If you want to have it here, we can have it here. When do you want to do it?" Thoughtfully, she glanced over at her dining room.

Harry considered for a while, munching on some kind of crunchy green vegetable. "Saturday?" His curiosity was aroused by the pale pink blush that infused Hermione's cheeks.

"Actually," she said. "Well. Kate made me an offer to do a show Saturday. And she told me I could invite as many of my friends as I want. And it would be a good way to say goodbye to the modeling world, and-"

"It sounds like a great idea," Harry said calmly. "A really great idea. I, for one," he said with a wink, "Would love to see you in skimpy swimwear." A shiver ran through Hermione at those words. God, Harry. He was killing her. And her hormones- it was like being an insecure fifteen year old again. Was he this flirty with everyone?

Blush spreading, Hermione grinned at him, baring her canines. "You, George, and Ron. I dunno about Neville." Now it was time for a little test- would he be possessive? More than he had always been, of course. Although he had always seemed alright with Krum. It had been Ron who had a problem with the famous Seeker.

Harry frowned, a dark jealousy coursing through him. Swimwear in the current decade was nothing more than tiny triangles and string- more revealing than underwear! No one but him should see Hermione in her underwear. Not George- and definitely not Ron. He had to protect her from their lewd eyes. Suddenly, he was ashamed. It was selfish of him to want to be the only one to see her in her underwear. Ron had probably seen Hermione in her underwear. Maybe George. And definitely Jon King. He looked at her like he had seen her in her underwear.

Using every bit of his considerable will, Harry forced himself to shrug. "You're beautiful, Hermione," he said sincerely. "A man would have to be gay, or married to a Veela not to want to see you in your underwear." It was when she gave him a strange look he realized his slip. His cheeks were burning- he must have been as red as a tomato. "I meant swimsuit. All men want to see you in a swimsuit."

Hermione laughed, throwing her head back. Her hair was up in some kind of fancy clip, leaving her slender neck free of her heavy mass of curls. "Merlin, Harry. What I meant to ask was if you thought it was a good idea for me to do the show." She cast him a sidelong glance, raising an eyebrow. "You don't think it would look like I was rethinking my decision to leave?"

"Nah," Harry said, with a decisive shake of his head. "I think it's a good idea. Plus I want to see you in your element." He winked at her, Banishing the remains of their dinner to her kitchen. "What exactly is going to happen?"

Hermione beamed at him, the wide, happy grin on her face making him smile as well. "Well, first, there is the show. You would sit in the crowd and watch as a bunch of sticks in expensive fabrics strut their stuff. Then we have the party, when we come out in the evening dress outfits and our highest heels and best jewels. Basically, the models are treated like eye-candy. Most of them walk around and simper and giggle. Some of us," she said with an eye roll, "Some of us prefer intelligent conversation. We make introductions and talk. Then comes the after party."

"The after party?" Harry asked in mock horror, throwing his arms up. "You make it sound like torture."

Hermione wrinkled her nose, rising from the carpet to lie on the sofa. "It can be fun. But if all they want to do is get you in bed with some hot shot it isn't. Since I was usually single, the 'unspoken rule' was that I should hop into bed with someone important." Her frustration was evident as she continued her rant on the use of the women to persuade the rich to invest in a designer.

"So we're going to all of that?" asked Harry. "Show, party, after party?" He could deal with that. Ginny would love it, and Ron would hate it. He wasn't sure about George, or Neville. Luna would do everything as she always did- wander around making strange comments. At least the Muggles would attribute it to her pregnancy.

Hermione shook her head, motioning him up to the sofa. "The after party is by word of mouth only. I don't think I'll take anyone to that one. I might not even go myself," she mused. "Do you want anything for dessert?" she asked Harry.

"Not really," he answered shaking his head. "Do you want to put cranberry juice in wine glasses and pretend we're grownups?" She laughed and nodded.

"I have cranberry juice in the fridge for just that reason," she said, voice full of grim amusement. "And I'd like to think that I am a grown-up."

As Harry walked to her kitchen and got the juice, Hermione's cell phone started calling out with a tinkling tune. Sighing, she picked it up, not glancing at the number. "Hello?"

"Hey, Princess," said the tinny voice of Jon King. "How're ya doing?" She smiled unconsciously.

"Fine, fine," she drawled. "And why are you calling me at," she checked her watch, and grimanced. "Ten o'clock at night?" She laughed with him, barely noticing Harry returning with two glasses full of cranberry juice.

She could almost see Jon shaking his head. "No reason, darling. Except that I heard you're doing one more show." The curiosity in his voice was evident. "Why?"

She shrugged, accepting the juice from Harry with a smile of thanks. "No reason. The clothes are gorgeous and I'd like to show my friends here what I did for the two years of dropped off their radar." They laughed again, Harry watching her with narrow green eyes.

"Well, I'm coming," Jon announced. "I'm not going to give up the chance to see you in something tight as hell and twice as sexy." Hermione shook her head in exasperation.

"Don't expect anything," Hermione warned, voice stern. "The days when you could do that are long gone, Mister."

"Ah, yes," Jon said, a hint of bitterness threading through his voices. "Give that crazy wizard of yours a 'hallo' from me, won't you, Princess?"

"Of course," Hermione said, shaking her head again. "See you Saturday, Jon."

"I'll be waiting," said the American. "Have a good night, darling. Dream of me." He hung up, leaving Hermione somewhere between resigned and annoyed.

"Jonathan King?" guessed Harry. "You sure sounded happy to hear from him." An image of the two of them together flashed through his head, causing him to frown. The picture in _The Daily Prophet_ of Jonathan King holding Hermione tight and kissing her on the early morning streets of New York City made him distinctly uncomfortable. The handsome American seemed to represent all of what made up the Lily-Hermione he had come to love and hate at the same time.

Hermione shot him a look. "I was. He was one of my first friends in the business."

"I heard he was more than that," Harry said voice deceptively calm. "I heard you were romantically involved." The quick surprise in Hermione's face was all that was needed to tell him he was right. "I thought so," he said quietly.

"That is none of your business," Hermione said, voice deadly. "Who I sleep with and who I date is none of your business."

"You're my best friend," said Harry, choosing his words carefully. "I care about you. I didn't mean to intrude." The burning jealousy when he thought of Jon King aside, it was true that Hermione had the right to date who she wanted. But she had _slept_ with King! _Slept_ with him!

Hermione nodded tersely. "You're my friend too, Harry," she said, most of the venom fled from her voice. "And you're opinion matters to me. But not as far as that, okay?" she gave him a weak smile. "Between you and Ron, I'd never have a boyfriend."

"Well," said Harry, clearing his throat nervously, "Back to our original subject. When do you want to have dinner with Ben?"

Hermione sipped from her cup, pensive. "How does Monday sound?" Sunday, she thought, they would be tired. She didn't think she could cook well after partying well into the morning.

"Okay," Harry said. "I'll ask Ben to come over…" Hermione nodded at him, a tired grin on her face. "To come over here at seven. I can come over and cook when my shift is done at five."

"Alright," Hermione agreed. "I'll see you tomorrow then?" Harry nodded, and stood to embrace her, acknowledging the dismissal.

She relished the moment, when his arms were around her and her face was tucked into the crook between his shoulder and neck. She rose on tiptoe to kiss his cheek, feeling the stubble of the day beneath her lips.

"Can I Apparate from here?" he asked.

Hermione nodded, drawing her wand and casting a small Silencing spell. "There. Go ahead."

And with a crack, he was gone.

"Hello?" The crisp, accented voice answered with a bored greeting, making Hermione smile on the other end of the phone. There really wasn't any one else like Kate.

"Kate, dear, it's Lily." The fake name came easily to her lips, but left a sour taste in her mouth.

The change in Kate's tone was immediate. She knew that Hermione had decided on something. "Lily, darling. Are you going to do it?"

A smile came to Hermione's lips. "Yes. I'll need six passes. Maybe seven, depends if one of my friends brings a date." Ginny might- she didn't know. It seemed like the youngest Weasley was still half in love with Harry. At least Hermione knew that Harry was totally over Ginny- although she didn't know why that fact made her so smugly happy.

"Perfect. I'll arrange it. Prime seats for all of them!" Kate announced, and Hermione could almost see her turn to her computer and start making arrangements. The click-clack of the keyboard in the background let her know she was right.

"Thanks, Kate," said Hermione, real gratitude in her voce. "I'll see you Friday for the fitting and practice run?"

"Hell yeah, baby!" Kate drawled. "You're pretty, money-making little ass needs to be down at Gregori's by 8:00 AM Friday morning."

"Okay- wait. You said Gwen was doing the show?" She wanted to see the spunky French model again. She need a good session of girl talk that Ginny was uniquely un-suited for.

"Right," said Kate, and Hermione could almost hear the nod. "And she is the next person I'm calling. She's in Paris until Friday, but she will be here Saturday night."

"Great! Tell her I miss her. And I can't wait for my friends to meet her." Hermione wondered how the feisty blonde would react to the equally feisty redhead.

"Will do, darling. See ya later." A click ended the call, and Hermione tossed her phone across her bed. The early morning and the promise of a nice run at a nearby park had gotten her out of bed; and tired but happy, the exercise had landed her back on top of the soft covers.

Plans made for her weekend, Hermione wandered over to her living room, and was struck by the sight of the huge leather bound book she had been reading that night after the party. The one Harry and seen, and the one that made her think of curses and babies, now, thanks to the silly wizard she called a best friend.

She needed to research.

Walking back to her bedroom, she took a shower, carelessly pulling her curls into a bun with a nearby pencil- a trick she had learned as a child. It took no time at all for her to get into 'study mode' and back into the living room.

When Harry came over, hands full of groceries, he found her lying on her stomach, totally absorbed in her heavy tome. A forgotten pencil was barely keeping her hair in its loose bun, and her eyes and her quill were moving fast. A long sheaf of parchment was covered with Hermione's neat handwriting, and a small set of reading glasses were perched on her nose.

Harry felt his eyes lingering on the back of her neck, noticing for what seemed like the hundredth time how smooth and white it was. How there was a little freckle that just begged to be kissed. Kicking himself for noticing, he set the bags down, cans clinking.

Faster than he would have expected, and wand was pointed at his throat, and Hermione was in a defensive crouch. When she recognized him, she didn't say anything, but she dropped her wand.

"Sorry," Harry said, heart racing. "Didn't mean to scare you."

Hermione sighed, and shook her head. "Doesn't mean anything. I've been jumpy today." She frowned, looking out at her lovely view and taking note of the dusky purple of the London sky. She stretched slowly, and frowned deeper. "What time is it?"

"About seven o'clock," Harry replied, checking his watch. "Are you hungry?"

Hermione closed her eyes, taking stock of her body. "Yeah," she said, surprised. "Just let me put my research away." The day had really gotten away from her- lunch had been forgotten, as had her cell phone. She had six missed calls, all from Jonathan.

"Damn," she muttered. "Is my hearing going too?" The sullen, bitter mood had enveloped her after reading just a few chapters of her book. The pessimistic view of life had come and gone in the beginning, when she wasn't sure what was happening to her- most of the time she felt fear and a slowly diminishing hope that whatever had happened wouldn't happen again. When she had finally gotten the guts to start researching, full of fear of what she would find and full of worry that if she didn't find out it would kill her, she had sunk into a deep depression and stayed there for a few weeks.

But now was not the time to succumb to a dangerous state of bitter resignation- she had a show to do in a few days, and she was starting a new job Monday. Now was _not _the time.

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><p><strong>Next chapter will be the fashion show! I swear, I'm reverting back to my preteen self, writing this story. Tell me what you do, or don't, want to see… I promise some interesting conflicts. Think of all our favorite HP characters in a room with Gwen and Jon and Jean-Baptiste and Kate…. and a few other people. <strong>

**Okay: SUPER DUPER HUGE favor time, for those who love me. I need you to go to FictionPress and read a short story of mine. And then review. It's not just for reviews- the short story is for a school assignment and I need feedback for the paper I need to write on it. So I need to see what different audiences think about it. **http:/www .fiction /s/2979867/1/Dear_Doctor_Grave **All you need to do is go read it and leave a review. **

**Other news: I have begun to write a Severus/ Hermione story. I know that squicks people out, but if there are any readers of mine who like SS/HG let me know if you want to see one written by me. (If you liked **_**When A Lioness Fights**_**, I think you'll like this one) Let me know.**

**Sorry for the huge A/N. Review, and check out my other stories. Thanks for reading.**


	8. Chapter 8

**Hello, all. I know I haven't updated in almost two months… but remember I have two other stories and I gave TWOT two chapters and 1995 one. **

**Unfortunately, my school has blocked FF, which means I can only update in the early morning or at night. So it's lucky for my European readers (including my lovely cousin…). **

**Reviews: Thanks for all of them. However, I find myself very frustrated when it's been at 99. So the hundredth reviewer gets a oneshot of their choice. (HP and no Ron/Hermione)**

**I have found I am very bad at thinking up interesting clothing. Help me out a bit in a review, if you can describe something you'd like someone to wear. I'd be happy to oblige. :)**

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><p>"If it isn't Lily Black, I'll eat my dress," drawled a voice from the depths of the fitting room. "I thought you quit the business?"<p>

"I am quitting," Hermione said back, wry humor in her voice. "But Kate roped me into one last show. And it's nice to see you too, Hanna."

Laughing, the two girls gave a perfunctory embrace and separated, eyes assessing the other for any sign of change. In the world they lived in, a single pound could make or break a girl's career. But Hanna was as trim as ever, curly red hair that was almost as unmanageable as Hermione's carefully styled, thin hands braced on slim hips, and a tight grin on coral lips.

"Looking as good as ever, Lily," she said, almost regretfully. "What pieces did you get assigned?" The models had almost never had a choice of what they could wear- it was selected for them according to skin tone and hair color and height and weight along with many other things.

Hermione smirked slightly. "I choose one of the fancy gowns- the one with the long sleeves and no back. And then one made almost entirely of lace, and-"

"You chose?" Hanna said incredulously. "Lucky bitch. What exactly happened?" The jealousy in the redhead's eyes was only thinly veiled.

The smirk on Hermione's face grew wider. "I wasn't going to do the show originally, but…" she shrugged. "Kate changed my mind. You know how she is."

"I am how I am," Kate's brassy voice said as the American woman strode into the room. "Lily, darling, you're not in here. Two rooms down. Maria is waiting to do your fitting." Hermione nodded, giving her friend and agent a quick nod before leaving the almost empty dressing room.

Two doors down was a smaller room, only built to hold a few people. In it was an old woman, sharp eyes hidden beneath wrinkles and a cheerful smile, and a long rack of beautiful clothes. Hermione felt herself grin, for real pleasure this time. It was the same smile of the face of every girl being offered free designer clothes made to fit them especially.

The fitting went well, with only one or two small changes necessary. Hermione was impatient for the fitting to end- she wanted to see her other friends who were currently getting ready for the practice run.

It was five o'clock before Hermione could finally leave the nice hotel where the show would be. She left all her clothes in the room she had been in before, and joined a group of girls in the lobby. She held in a smirk, keeping her face impassive as she observed the scene. A group of gorgeous models talking and laughing while wide eyed business men blessed their secretaries- just like every other major city in the world. Half hidden behind a potted plant, Hermione slid on her shades and straightened her back, pulling a mysterious smile to her face.

She was wearing a little scarlet dress with matching heels, a fancy purse, and gold bangles and a tangle of gold necklaces, perfect for interacting with the girls she would be walking toward. She inhaled, and exhaled. _Leave all the problems behind and strut your stuff. _Best advice she'd ever gotten.

And strut she did. She was tanner than she had been in a while due to a handy spell, and she knew how to stride like a pro in heels. It was almost comical how heads turned her way, and the grubby imprints of their eyes stuck to her backside. Her hair was wild around her face, curls carefully uncontrolled. She might not have been the prettiest girl in the room, but she could act like she was.

The conversation stopped as she arrived at the gaggle of models. At the forefront of the group was Hanna, and with her were four other girls. Oksana, a Russian-American she had known for a few months, gave Hermione a wide smile. Marissa smiled also, tossing her head of black curls while tightly gripping Phoebe's arm. Phoebe was another red-head, again with a head full of ringlets. In fact, the only girl who didn't have curly hair was Janette, who was a blonde with a sleek bob.

"Hello, Oxy," Hermione said to Oksana, accepting a hug from the tall brunette. "I thought you were staying in Moscow."

Oksana shook her head. "Work there has dried up. London is but a temporary stop on my way to Paris." She pulled away to look down on the witch. "Word is that you're giving up modeling."

"The word is true," Hermione said with an excited grin. "I got a job with some advanced research into some unique medical cases."

Hanna shook her head. "Always thought you were a little strange, Lily. We're going for drinks at the bar. Wanna come?" She was obviously expecting Hermione to refuse, as Lily Black was infamous for her love of cranberry juice and water.

"Sure," Hermione replied. "I'll stay with you lot while I wait for my friend." She dug in her purse for her cell, dialing Harry's number from memory.

"Hello?" Harry sounded bored. She smiled a little, recalling a messy haired teen staring blankly at History of Magic texts.

"It's me, love," Hermione said quickly. "I'm done. Are you finished with your work yet?"

She could almost hear his eager smile in his voice. "Yes. I'm done." In the background she could hear him saying loudly, "Ben, I need to leave. Hermione needs me to come and get her."

And then she heard a man she presumed was Ben counter. "She's a witch. She can Apparate," he said, before bursting into laughter. "Go, Potter."

"I'll be there in a few minutes," Harry said. "See you in a few."

"Bye," Hermione said, hanging up.

She walked over to the bar with the group, sliding smoothly onto a stool. "Do you have cranberry juice?" she asked the bartender. When he nodded, confused, she smiled kindly. "I'll have that, thanks."

"So, Lily," Marissa said with a curious smile. "Why this last show?"

Hermione accepted her drink from the bartender and took a small sip while considering how to answer the question. "The best way to go is with a bang." At the stumped looks, she sighed. "One last great act before disappearing into anonymity."

They were saved from responding when Kate strode into the bar, making a beeline to their table. "Hello, girls," she said with a nod. "Lily, these are for your friends. I got you seven front seats."

"Thanks, Kate," Hermione said, tucking the tickets into her purse. "My friends are extremely excited."

"No problem, babe," Kate said with a wink, face going stern when she turned to the other models. "My lovelies, I know make-up can do wonders but if any of you go out partying tonight and show up tomorrow drunk, hung over, or looking anything less than perfect, you will be banned from the show and I will personally tack your hide to my wall. Understood?"

Hermione stifled her giggles as the girls glanced dubiously at the drinks in their hands. "Yes, Ms. Pierce," Phoebe said, subdued.

"Tell that boy of yours I say hi, Lily," Kate said with a wink. "See ya tomorrow."

"Bye, Kate," Hermione said with a wave, watching as the confident American navigated the confines of the dimly lit British hotel bar.

All five of the girls were watching her with predatory gazes. "Boy?" asked Janette. "You did not mention a new beau."

"Because he's not my beau," Hermione said with an eye roll. "Contrary to popular opinion, a guy and a girl can just be friends." The tall man entering the bar brought a smile to her face, a smile he returned. "Speak of the devil," she murmured.

"That him?" Hanna asked. When Hermione nodded, she shook her head. "Damn. He must be gay. Please do not let Lily's hot friend be gay."

"He's not gay," Hermione said with a laugh. "Promise."

Harry looked at all the girls, and gave Hermione a pained expression. "Please tell me you were not just discussing my sexuality?"

"We were not just discussing your sexuality," Hermione said, perfectly serious. "Harry, this is Hanna, Oksana, Melissa, Phoebe, and Janette. You'll see them tomorrow at the show."

Harry smiled charmingly, green eyes heated. "Delighted," he said cordially. "Darling, we're expected at Grimmauld for dinner in about ten minutes. Are you ready to leave?"

"Yes, of course," Hermione said. "Kate gave me the tickets." She called over the bartender, and gave him a few bills. She then stood and accepted Harry's arm. "I'll see you tomorrow," she said with a nod.

"Bye," Marissa said with a wink in Harry's direction. "Don't forget that the after party will be at Dmitri's place." She ran her eyes over Harry and smirked. "And you are definitely invited."

"Thank you," Harry said gravely. With a quick wave over her shoulder, Hermione all but dragged Harry out of the bar and into the lobby. They left, walking in conspicuously for a few moments before turning into an alley.

Hermione yawned, and stretched, relieved to be out of the sight of so many eyes. "Are we really having dinner at Number Twelve?"

"Yes," Harry said with a nod. "Neville told me. And he said Ron has finally decided to stop being stupid and join us." She inclined her head, and turned on her heels to appear on the front stoop of Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place.

Harry cracked into existence at her side moments later, looking at her oddly before knocking firmly on the door. The door swung open, revealing Luna, smiling serenely with hand on her belly. "Come in, Harry, Hermione," she said sweetly. "You look very promiscuous, Hermione."

"Thank you, Luna," Hermione said laughing. She and Harry entered the safe house, both sighing at the delicious smells coming from the kitchen. "Molly's cooking?"

"Of course," Luna said solemnly. "It seems that the Diddering Ninclefamers have bound her to kitchen appliances. But the rest of us are unaffected so we're waiting in the sitting room."

They followed her into the house greeting Neville, Ginny, George, and Ron in the sitting room. Ron gave her and Harry a sheepish look, then stepped forward to give Hermione a hug. "Sorry," he whispered.

She shook her head. "I left you with no warning and no contact. You had a right to be mad."

"But I didn't have a right to be a prat," Ron replied. He was genuinely sorry- he knew when he had messed up, and although it did take him a while to apologize, he did so sincerely.

"I have the tickets for the fashion show tomorrow night," Hermione said with a large smile, finding the tickets in her purse and holding them up. "I can give them to you now so you can get in without be tomorrow night."

She gave two to Neville, one for him and one for Luna, one to George and Ginny each, and one for Ron and one for Harry. "Remember that this is very fancy. Classy Muggle cloths are suits and ties, boys. Ginny, Luna, nice dresses. You can borrow one of mine if you want, Gin."

"I can't wait to raid your closet," Ginny said gleefully. "You were right when you said that it's improved since our Hogwarts days."

Dinner went smoothly, Molly's cooking impeccable and George, Hermione, and Ginny providing humorous quips to amuse their friends. After dinner, it was necessary to stay for tea, and talk in the sitting room for a while. As a result, the London sky was dark and smoggy when Hermione stepped out of the gloomy house.

"Are you going back to your flat?" Harry asked. "I can go with you, if you'd like."

She gave him a wan smile. "No, that's fine, Harry. I'll see you tomorrow." In her heels she still only came up to his neck. He bent amused, to allow her to peck him on the cheek. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight, Hermione," Harry said back seriously. "Be safe." His green eyes were worried.

"Always," Hermione said seriously, clinging to him for a moment before pulling away. "Later, love." With a reassuring wink, she turned and disappeared with a soft crack.

* * *

><p>"I need to step out for a few minutes, Kate," Hermione said under her voice, leaning in to speak in the woman's ear. "I'll be back in fifteen minutes, twenty tops."<p>

Kate glared. "If your ass isn't back in less than twenty I will personally thank you for changing your mind about the modeling business and agreeing to do any show I ask in front of all these lovely people."

Smiling sweetly, Hermione fluttered her lashes. "Thank you, Kate, love." She laughed as she walked to the alley she and Harry had Apparated from the day before. With a quick turn and pop, she landed at her flat. Harry was there- she left him the key and instructions to let everyone wait there for her to make sure they looked their best.

"Hello, everybody," she said, announcing her presence. "I have fifteen minutes before I need to be backstage."

She checked Ron first, sighing and slapping his hand away from his neck. "I know it itches, but you cannot keep scratching, Ronald." He opened his mouth and she glared. "That is my word and tonight, my word is law."

Neville and Luna were next, Neville in a finely cut suit and Luna in a periwinkle dress that fell gracefully over her belly. "You two are fine," Hermione said with a nod.

Ginny had raided her closet. Although the brunette was shorter and had a bigger bust, Ginny had managed to fine a pale green empire waist dress that she had paired with a nice pair of strappy sandals and one of her own necklaces in silver. "You look good, Gin," Hermione said. "Make sure your brother stays looking nice."

"I'm next!" George shouted. "How beautiful do I look, darling?" he asked in a falsetto.

She straightened his tie and smoothed the jacket over his shoulders. "Eight," she said seriously, but she was unable to hide her smile for long.

"You wound me," George said, hand over his heart, and a pout on his face. "See all the lifeblood spilling on the floor?"

Hermione smirked. "I don't care. You're the one who'll have to clean it up," she retaliated with a shrug.

"And how do I look?" Harry asked. He was the only one who looked at home in the fancy clothes, as a result of many Ministry of Magic To Muggle Ministry functions.

_And he can certainly pull it off,_ Hermione thought to herself. "You are fine, Harry. Do you remember where the hotel is?"

He nodded solemnly. The sleek suit made him look even taller, and his shoulders broader. It was true- all men look better in suits. She couldn't resist the urge to run her hands over his shoulders and down his chest. "Dashing," she finally pronounced. "But I need to get back to the dressing rooms. Harry will get you all there, won't you, love?"

"Of course," Harry assured her. "Go. We'll be in the front row." She gave him an absentminded smile, and spun and Apparated.

She hurried into the hotel, almost missing the tall blonde leaning gracefully against the welcome desk. She walked passed, then paused and turned.

"Gwen?" she asked. "Is that you?"

The blonde slipped her sunglasses into a large bag, grinning easily. "Vraiment, cherie." Hermione smiled back, hugging the French model.

"It's been a long time, love," Hermione said. "When did you get off the plane?" She linked her arm through Gwen's and they headed toward the area set up for the models to dress.

Gwen tossed her thick hair over her shoulder and pouted. "Hours ago. I needed my beauty sleep," she said in a heavily accented voice. "Kate said you could show me where everything was when you got back. Have you taken up smoking, Cherie?"

"No," Hermione said firmly. "I still firmly believe those things are poison in white and yellow paper and that Sasha will get lung cancer one day. I just made sure my friends knew how to get here." They turned into the hallway, heels clicking on the tiled floor.

Laughing throatily, Gwen shook her head. "Well. Who is coming?" She widened her big blue eyes at Hermione. "Surely you are bringing the mysterious Harry Potter?"

Hermione nodded. "Yes, love. He's on his way. This is where we are." She gave Gwen another hug, and left with a wave to get dressed.

She could hear the soft rumble of voices from the area surrounding the runway. It seemed that the people were settling down with glasses of wine and champagne. The first category was casual- as always. She stepped into a dark blue sundress, wedge heels, and put her hair in a loose bun. Anne did her makeup, something simple that could be wiped of and replaced in a few minutes.

She looked good, if she did say so herself. Long legs, hair falling in ringlets down her back, and simple silver jewelry. Her scar was hidden with a glamour, and she was feeling fine.

"Lily," Gustavo cried. "Beautiful, beautiful. Are you ready for the runway?" The man's black hair was slicked back and his teeth flashed against his tan skin.

Hermione gave her best 'mysterious smile' and nodded. "As always. Am I up first?"

"Yes," Gustavo said with a nod for emphasis. "Wait until you hear your name called." The models got in line behind the entry way that lead to the runway. Gwen had saved Hermione a spot, which she took with a grateful smile.

"Merci," Hermione said, pecking the blonde on the cheek. "You look perfect, love." Gwen's hair was up in loose bun, and she was wearing a pair of simple slacks and a draped silver shirt.

Gwen just grinned. "It was no problem, cherie. Get ready." She winked at Hermione, who smirked back.

"Thank you all for coming. And to reveal our special surprise of the night: Lily Black! She has graciously agreed to do one more show for us tonight."

_There's my cue,_ Hermione thought, smiling widely as she strode onto the runway. The lights were bright and the faces turned up in their seats were expectant. She strode forward, one hand on her hip, giving a wave to the announcer. Her friends were sitting along the right edge of the circular platform at the end of the runway. She made it there, blew a kiss, and spun to walk away.

She passed Marissa, and exited the runway to the chaos of backstage. She waved a Gwen, who was getting ready to go. The French woman nodded, then walked onto the runway.

Hermione made her way to her dressing room, slipping in and stripping quickly. Next was business wear- suits and skirts and dresses. She had chosen a beautiful grey skirt with a high waist- right underneath her ribcage. Tucked into that was a long sleeved cream blouse. The sleeves were loose until her wrists, and the shirt revealed a generous amount of cleavage. She had a small scarf tied around her neck, and heels that would have tipped her over two years ago. Her hair was wrangled into a bun, and a small set of glasses were perched on her nose. A touch of lipstick to darken her lips, and a brush of rouge across her cheeks.

Before she knew it, she was on the runway again, heels clicking against the floor. She caught Harry's eye, and winked, causing a murmur to spread through the crowd. She looked out toward the back of the room just in time to see Gustavo frown and motion toward her hair.

Smirking, she took of the glasses and pulled the tie from her hair, using a bit of magic to help it along. She shook out her curls, and pouted at the audience. Gustavo grinned, and nodded. She turned, and strutted of the stage.

The outfits passed, one after the other until it was time for the last one, the grand finale. It was sleeveless, and the darkest red she had ever seen- in the shadows, it was black. There was no back, only the sides of dress clinging to the sides of her body, and coming together at the base of her spine. The skirt was long and fell to swish around her ankles. Against her pale skin, it was stunning. Her lips were painted scarlet, her eyes smoky. Her curls were bound against her neck to allow the audience to see her back, with the exception of a few wisps that curled against the sides of her face.

A necklace dropped a heavy ruby just above her breasts, and a large pair of earrings hung heavy against her neck. She had been made a few inches taller by bold heels, allowing the skirt to sweep just above the floor.

"Lily, you are up next," said Kate, popping her head in the door, a clip board in her hand. "Wow. Babe, you are gorgeous."

Hermione smiled slowly. "Thanks, love. Wish me luck." She chuckled, low in her chest. The dress alone made her feel sexy as hell…

"There is no need," Kate said, still admiring Hermione, a gleam in her cool blue eyes. "They already love you." She gave Hermione one last approving glance, and stepped aside from the door to allow the woman to pass through. "Strut that stuff, Lils. Last one."

She heard the announcer call out for the next model, her cue to step out and walk. The dress fluttered around her legs, the top clinging to every line of her body. She kept a seductive smile on her face, moving her hips in order to 'sell' the dress. As flattering as the dress was to her, she was being paid to sell the gown, not to look pretty.

She caught Harry's eye, at the end of the runway. His eyes widened, then his eyelids came down and he smiled slowly at her, green eyes darkening. He raised his glass to her, filled with what looked like champagne (it was probably water he had charmed to look like the beverage) and nodded. She had to fight to control the light blush that rose to her face, only smirking a bit more before turning to head back the way she came.

The light drumming in her chest made her cheeks suffuse with a warm flush as soon as she was hidden from view once more. The pleasurably sharp spikes that shot their way through her chest filled her with thoughts of Harry, the smile, the glass, the nod. The desire in his face.

She changed into her cocktail dress silently, preparing for the after party in an almost dreamy state. Her dress this time was slinky, a long slit up one side the skirt to expose a long leg. The dress was black, a deep V-neck formed by two straps that crossed at her back. A swipe of deep red lipstick, and a quick shake of her curls, and she was ready for the after party.

She stalled behind the other models, making her way to where Kate was leaning against a wall, watching her girls with a sharp eye.

"How did it go?" Hermione asked softly. "Are there magazines and boutiques hungry for the clothes?" In these shoes, she was only about an inch shorter than the American.

Kate laughed throatily. "Yes, there are. Of course, there are now more ravenous designers who hunger for their clothes on your body. Can I…" she let her voice trail off. "C'mon, Lily. Think of all the-"

"No," Hermione said firmly, cutting her off. "No. This was the last show. I have a new job. I'm starting Monday. I do not need to model anymore. That part of my life is over. Now I have to get back to the life I left before showing up in America with no place to go."

"Then go out and enjoy your last night of fame," Kate said, closing her eyes and leaning against the wall. "Kiss that boy for me."

Hermione just shrugged in reply, exiting the backstage area and joining everyone else where they were mingling. Gwen was talking with a group of men, throwing back her head to laugh, while Marissa and Hanna chatted with a few designers. She felt invisible, for a moment. No one was looking at her, paying her any attention. She was just another model in just another dress.

And then Gustavo was approaching, arms spread wide. "Lily. Thank you so much for doing your final show for me." He offered his arm, and she sighed internally and threaded her arm through his. He led them up to the podium, where he tapped the microphone.

"Thank you, everyone," he said proudly. "For coming to the introduction of my new line. I would like to introduce the model who inspired the entire line: Lily Black. For those of you who don't know her, this will be your last opportunity."

Hermione smiled widely, and leaned into the microphone. "This was my last show. I'm retiring."

Gustavo continued with a few remarks, then the stepped down. Hermione was scanning the room, trying to spot Harry, Luna and Neville, and the Weasleys. "Excuse me," she said to Gustavo. "I need to check on my guests. If you will?" He released her arm, and watched as she crossed the room to the cluster that was the Hogwarts group.

They were all clustered together, looking uncomfortable. Ron was tugging at the collar of his shirt, while Neville's fidgeting was contrasted to Luna's look of dreamy calm.

"Honestly," Hermione exclaimed with a huff. "Mingle. Have fun. Don't drink too much champagne. Ron, George, there are available models here. Try your luck."

George winked at her, and put an arm around her. "Would you like a drink, most beautiful of the available models?"

Hermione hesitated, which Harry saw and interpreted. "I'll get one for her, George," he said, slipping away through the crowd toward the bar.

Smiling serenely, Luna took Neville's arm. "There are some interesting drugs being used there, Neville," she said. "So we should go see if the girl over there is really wearing a dress made entirely of feathers."

Ron shook his head. "Introduce me to someone, Hermione?" Hermione stiffened, and he flushed. "Sorry. Lily."

"Of course," Hermione replied. "I'll introduce you too, Gin."

Because he still towered over her, Ron had to lean down to whisper, "It's bloody weird to call you after Harry's dead mum."

Hermione laughed lightly. "I know, Ronald. But it worked." They were approaching Gwen, and two of the men she had been talking with.

"Lily," Gwen exclaimed, pale cheeks a pleasant shade of pink. They kissed the other's cheeks quickly, and Hermione hugged the two men.

"Gwen, Marco, Alex, this is Ronald Weasley and his sister, Ginny. Ron, Ginny, this is Gwenaelle Dumont, Marco Beamont, and Alexander Wester." Hermione said in a rush. "Gwen?" she sent the French girl a plea with her eyes, and Gwen nodded.

"No problem, Lily," she said, putting a reassuring hand on Hermione's arm. "I'll take good care of these two." Her eyes widened. "Tall, dark, and handsome at six o'clock," she said. "Please tell me that is the Harry you told me so much about."

"Guilty as charged," Harry said, handing Hermione a flute of juice disguised as champagne. "Harry Potter. Pleased to meet you." They shook hands, and Harry put an arm around Hermione's waist. "There was someone you wanted me to meet, love?"

"I'll see you in a bit, Gwen," Hermione said. She and Harry wove their way through the people, taking a seat at one of the available couches.

"So." Hermione stalled. "What did you think?" She waited impatiently for him to answer. Instead, he just shrugged, sprawled out on the couch.

"Pretty girls, pretty clothes," he said. "Although I particularly like you in this dress." At her look, he just laughed. "You look gorgeous, Hermione."

"Thank you," she said with a quick peck on his cheek. "Do you want to leave yet?"

A rumbling laugh from behind her made her turn around. "You can't leave yet, Lily. The party's barely started, princess," said Jon. He held out a hand to her, pulling her up. "I don't think Harry's met Gustavo yet, has he?"

"No," Hermione replied. "Harry?" He rose and they walked through the room, greeting the people Hermione knew and talking briefly to some of them. It was going fine until Hermione saw a very familiar man with slicked back hair who was speaking with Gwen, Ron, and Ginny.

"Jean-Baptiste," she said with a smile. "It's been a while." The Frenchman flashed a smile at her, pulling her in for a hug.

"Indeed, Lily. It has been too long," he said, with a heavy French accent. "And who is this?" The man glanced at Harry, who had grasped Hermione's hand for a second before letting it go.

"Harry Potter," Harry with a respectful nod. "Nice to meet you."

Ginny smiled sweetly at them. "Jean-Baptiste is so interesting, _Lily_. He was just telling us about the two of you."

* * *

><p><strong>It was impossible to find a place to end this. So… I left with a little cliffy. <strong>

**Tell me what you thought. I'd like to hear it. Next chapter will not be after such a long wait. Love to all. **

**If anyone is interested in my life, I think I passed with my short story and report. I should be getting the grade in a few days. So many thanks to all of those who helped me with the story. I am looking forward to Spring Break: no school! I'm exhausted, and overloaded and still I find time to write for you… a miracle. **

**See you next time. Review, please. Best way for me to evaluate what you like and don't like. **


	9. Chapter 9

**Okay! I'll keep the AN short, you prolly want to get to the resolution of the cliffe. Here ya go, sorry for the long wait.**

* * *

><p>Hermione lifted one eyebrow calmly. "Is that so?" she asked, an edge of steel in her cool voice. "Airing dirty laundry in public isn't quite your style, Jean." She tilted her head slightly to one side, her face expressionless.<p>

"It wasn't anything too bad," Ron said, laughing nervously. "He was just telling us that the two of you had history." There was the slightest of pauses before the last word.

Jean-Baptiste shrugged, shoving his hands in his jacket pockets. He looked effortlessly cool, very sharp, and extremely French. "I have more class than that, Lily. I was merely recounting our," his eyes narrowed slightly, becoming a slightly deeper shade of blue. "Our acquaintance. Or did you forget we were lovers?"

Ginny's eyes darted to Harry's face, noting the tightness of his jaw and the not-so-casual arm he wrapped around Hermione's waist. _Dean,_ she reminded herself.

"Of course not," Hermione sighed, regret and sadness all wrapped into one gust of air. "Of course not, Jean. But that was in the past. And here is neither the time, nor the place." She said the last part deliberately, making eye contact with the tall Frenchman to drive her point home.

Gwen was watching the conversation with interest, as were Ginny and Ron. Harry, after the initial bristling, had relaxed, glad to have Hermione close and pleased that she allowed him a hand on her waist.

The tall Frenchman nodded quickly, the faintest flush of pink on his cheeks. "You are right as ever, Lily. Forgive my lack of manners." Swiftly, he grinned at Harry, who was taken aback by his sudden friendliness. "Have you ever known her to be wrong?"

"Maybe once every few years," Harry joked. "Did you enjoy the show?" For him, it had been pleasant. Like he had said to Hermione- pretty girls and pretty clothes. The people behind him had been making comments on the clothes and makeup, admiring the clean lines of the clothing and the way the bodies of the models showed them off. Gustavo had a reputation for only hiring healthy models- he was disgusted by the sticks and bones so often shown. He liked them slim, not skeletal.

Jean-Baptiste nodded eagerly. "Yes, yes. A fantastic spin on the classics. Lily, did I tell you that you were beautiful out there?" Hermione blushed and accepted the complement.

The group chatted for a while, before leaving Gwen and Jean-Baptiste to conduct a conversation in their native French. Ginny quizzed Hermione on some of the clothing she had seen on the runway, while Ron pointed out some of the pretty models.

George joined them a few minutes later, a cocky grin belying his success before he informed them he had a date with a nice blonde Hermione new only vaguely. They stayed at the party for another hour, Luna and Neville leaving first and Ginny, Ron, and George following their lead a few moments later.

"So," said Harry, studying the drink in his hand carefully. "What now?" His eyes darted up to Hermione's, taking in the mascara and smoky eye shadow. She didn't look like herself. She looked like Lily.

Hermione twirled a curl around her finger, and shrugged. "It's up to you, Harry. We can go home, or we can stop by the after party."

"Home," Harry decided after a moment. "I'm tired and I'm sure you are too. We can make hot chocolate and curl up on the couch," he suggested.

With a sigh of relief, Hermione grinned. "Sounds perfect. Any chance you want to sweeten the pot?" They rose from the small couch they had been resting on, and started to make their way to the door.

"Hm," Harry said, thinking for a moment. "I'll throw in a foot rub if you add some marshmallows," he wiggled his eyebrows at her. "I am very good a foot rubs," he finished with a wink. "And those shoes look very uncomfortable."

Grimacing in distaste, she discreetly stuck out a foot and examined it. "I agree. Let's say our goodbyes and get out of here."

Kate was chatting with a group of agents of a few of the extra models Gustavo had requested from other agencies. Her blonde hair was carefully styled, and tucked behind her ears, and she appeared very obviously important.

"Lily, darling," she said, drawing out the 'r' in an imitation of Hermione's own accent. "Leaving already?" She sipped from a cherry red concoction in her hand, eyes sliding toward Harry. "Your boy too?"

"I'm afraid so, Kate," Harry said apologetically. "I had a long day at work already and I'm tired. We are going to head home." Hermione's mind went to an image of the two of them, meeting in her home after a long day at work, kissing and going to bed. Waking up in his arms again.

She flushed hot, and gave Kate a quick hug, fleeting sorrowful at the loss of Harry's touch on her lower back. "See you later, Kate," she said, pulling away. "Give Gustavo my best," she called as they walked away. The last stop was a group of the models, some drunk, some not.

"Lily!" one of them hooted. "Are you coming to the after party?" Her blonde curls were mussed and the thin strap of her dress was slipping off.

Hermione shook her head, mentally accessing her own shoulders. "No, I'm going home. I'll see you guys around, alright?" After a quick round of hugs and goodbyes, the two Wizarding folk found themselves outside in the cool air of London. The summer days were fleeting, and it would soon be fall. Hogwarts would start up again, and life would go on.

She sighed, and immediately Harry's jacket was around her shoulders. "Thanks," she said quickly, eyes darting up to his green ones for a moment before darting away again. _I feel like a silly teenage girl again,_ Hermione thought. _I'm too old for that._

But when she thought about it for a minute, she shook her head. She wasn't really that old- only twenty-two. She had been a teenager only three years ago. When she was nineteen she was struggling with Post-Traumatic-Stress-Disorder and living with a man she didn't love. She had killed people. She had almost been killed. She had been tortured. She might be barren- her life might have been over before it had even started.

"Do you ever stop to think we are only in our twenties?" Hermione asked after a moment. She looked up at the smoggy London sky and sighed. "I'm barely legal to drink in the United States. I should be in University. Do-"

Harry spoke, strong voice unusually weary. "Yes, Hermione. But we aren't like normal Muggles. Think, half the people who survived the war in our class are already married. The rest are considered play boys or spinsters. The Wizarding world is different. We are different. We cannot be normal, Hermione!" He was getting tired of this subject- that which happened had happened, and nothing more could be done.

"I know that," she snapped back. "But I wish-"

"Wishing will not help," Harry said softly, almost pleading with her. "We have to accept it. Move on. What's done is done, and there is no going back."

They had stopped, this formally dressed couple in the almost empty streets around the hotel. They had been heading toward the alley where they would Apparate, but they had been so distracted with their conversation they had passed it. "But it's so unfair," Hermione whispered. "So god damned unfair."

"That's life, 'Mione," Harry snapped. "You got it bad, I got it bad. So fucking sad for us. I have a job, I've moved on, I'm working to heal. And you-"

"I ran away," said Hermione, eyes tight with held back tears. "I was a coward and I ran away and left you all here-" She cut herself off, and stalked into the alley. "I'll see you tomorrow, Harry," she said in a dead voice.

He heard the crack of her Apparation, and cussed, kicking the side of the wall. "Not this time, Hermione," he muttered to himself under his breath. With a quick check to make sure no one was watching, he turned on his own heel and appeared in Hermione's living room.

He ducked, knowing she would have shot a spell in his direction on instinct. "It's me, Hermione!" he shouted, holding up his hands with his wand visible. "It's just me."

She was not as mad as she should have been, he thought. But he was right on one thing- the wall behind him was smoking faintly. Hermione just stood there as he repaired it, and walked into her kitchen. "Aren't you going to get a blanket?" he called. "You owe me a hot chocolate and curl up on the couch. So I'll do you a favor and make the hot coco and you'll fetch a blanket and a movie, alright, love?"

She left the kitchen, walking over to a small closet and pulling a warm blanket down from the top shelf. She plucked a few DVDs from her small collection and put them on the table. "Alright, Harry. Blanket, and movie."

"And the hot coco is almost done," Harry replied. "Marshmallows?" She could hear him rummaging around the cupboard in the kitchen.

She sat down on the couch, taking off her painfully high shoes. "Yes, please. They're in the pantry, near the back. White and blue bag." Hermione stretched, then padded off toward her room, calling over her shoulder, "I'm going to change, Harry. Can you choose a movie and start it?"

When she remerged, dressed in an over-large shirt and a pair of comfortable cotton shorts, he had slipped a DVD into the rarely used player and was already under the blankets on his side of the couch, sipping hot cocoa. His suit jacket lay discarded over the back of an armchair, and he had unbuttoned his sleeves to roll them up.

She accepted the cup of warm hot chocolate he offered her, setting into the couch. "Which movie?" she asked. The hot coca was good- she took a sip and sighed contentedly.

"Mission Impossible," Harry answered promptly, throwing her a cheeky grin.

She shook her head and sighed, a small smile gracing her face. "You are such a boy, Harry."

"I made the coco, plus I was here while you were changing," Harry pointed out. "Come on. We can watch one itty bitty action movie."

"Fine," Hermione said, pulling on the blanket. "Next time, I pick the movie. Or we'll end up playing Scrabble or something."

Harry took a long draw from his coco cup, coming up with a brown milk mustache. "Fine by me, love. I love Scrabble!"

Hermione shook her head, and started laughing. "You're incorrigible," she said, unable to help her giggles. "Press play, already."

* * *

><p><em>Hermione glanced at her watch, checking the time for what had to be the fourth time that evening. "Harry Potter, if you do not ring my doorbell in the next thirty seconds, I will-"<em>

_The doorbell rang, and Hermione sprang up from her seat on the couch, smoothing down her hair. She opened the door, grinning happily when she saw the man who rang the doorbell._

"_Hello, love," he said, stepping into her house and enveloping her into a hug. "Merlin it's been a long time since we've seen each other."_

_She was lost in the scent of his jacket, relishing his warmth before pulling away to close the door. "Harry," she sighed, reaching up the kiss his cheek. "Your trip was alright?" There was a shadow of stubble on his chin, rough against her lips. _

"_It was cold," Harry said, shrugging off his heavy jacket. "I had to go the Muggle route- we didn't want any Death Eaters to know we were coming. I never realized how bloody _cold_ Germany gets in the winter." There was snow in his hair, the white dots disappearing one by one as they melted. _

_Hermione shrugged, pulling her cardigan closer around herself. "Tell me about it. This house I'm staying at would cost me half a fortune to heat if I didn't use warming spells." She stepped forward again to hug him, now that he was free of the bulky coat. "Gods, I've missed you Harry."_

_She saw what he was going to ask before he said it. "Not yet," she said quickly, cutting off his question. "I'm not ready to go back now. It's too-" she turned her head to the side, still in the circle of his arms. "I got a letter from Ron."_

"_And?" Harry asked, clutching her tighter. If his friend had ruined his chances of getting Hermione back in London, he would kill the redhead. _

_Hermione leaned into Harry. "He's still furious," she said in a small voice. "And rightly so, I guess. He begged me to come home. I don't think I can deal with him right now." Her mind darted to what had happened a few days before- the shaking, the seizures, the pain… Something was happening and she was becoming terrified to move. One fall, and she had been in pain for hours. _

_Harry bowed his head, nose just brushing her curly hair. "You look nice," he said, drawing back to look at her. She was wearing a cream turtleneck with a deep burgundy cardigan over it. Slim black pants fit snugly on her hips, and instead of shoes she wore fuzzy red and gold striped socks. Her hair was wild around her head, more untamable than he had seen it in months. Her face, however, was drawn, tired. Faint shadows hung under her eyes, and her hands shook slightly as she took his scarf and hung it up on the coatrack. _

"_Thanks," she said, rolling her eyes. "You don't look so bad yourself. Did Ginny force you to get a haircut?" Her mind flashed guiltily to the flame-haired woman who lived with Harry. Did she know where Harry was? Of course she did, Hermione told herself. She hadn't mentioned any of Harry's visits in her letters, but those were few and far between. _

_Harry ducked his head sheepishly, running a hand through his hair. "Yeah, actually. Guess she didn't realize that I would have liked having more hair over here. Why can't Death Eaters hide in warm climates? Like the three we caught in France. Those were Death Eaters, with _taste_." _

_Hermione led him through the small house to the living room. "So who was it this time?"_

"_Bolling, Hanover, and Renly. We had hoped to find Davenport as well, but…" he shrugged. "No luck. The other three were attending some meeting of American skinheads who decided that because Hitler was dictator of Germany, all Germans were Nazis. They did some clumsy recruiting efforts, which the German Ministry sniffed out right away. They were offended, and when they saw the names, they called us." Harry stretched quickly, cracking his neck. _

_Hermione regarded him with solemn eyes. "And Mulciber? Any news about him?" His face had featured heavily in her nightmares- the executioner had a sadistic side. Bellatrix had been especially fond of him- as fond as she could be of someone who worked for a living. _

"_No," Harry said, shaking his head. "But we're trying." They were quiet for a moment, watching the fireplace. "What's on the agenda for tonight?" Harry asked suddenly, green eyes looking at her inquisitively._

_Hermione stood and padded over to the kitchen, followed by Harry. "I cooked," she said proudly. "One of my friends, Gwen, is teaching me. I should you two meet sometime. Anyway, I'm cooking a rabbit. They are excellent when cooked properly."_

_Leaning against the countertop, Harry gave the oven a suspicious glance. "Did you cook it properly?"_

"_I think so," Hermione said, throwing her own worried look at the cooking fowl. "If not, I have sandwich stuff. No one can mess up sandwiches." _

_The next hours were spent catching up on news. Harry and Ginny had adopted a fish, Luna and Neville were on their honeymoon and had yet to emerge, and Ron was dating a nice witch named Candy. Hermione had just finished with a nice assignment in New York, and had come to Germany for a show. However, there were complications with the clothes- and Hermione was to be holed up in Eastern Germany for at least another week. _

_The duck was fine- Hermione was exuberantly proud and Harry ginned on her behalf, praising every other bite. They joked and laughed as they ate, talking about the people they knew._

"_Padma and Parvati are back in India," Hermione informed Harry, taking a sip of water. "I stopped by to say hello when I was there. Padma's engaged- well, no. She's prolly married now, actually."_

_Harry nodded thoughtfully. "I remember- Lavender had to leave for a week to go to the wedding and Ron was grumpy for days."_

"_Are they still together?" Hermione asked, surprised. "So that fling in sixth year is back on?" She remembered the blonde girl's searing jealousy and winced. At least she couldn't be accused of messing up their relationship this time around._

_Harry glanced at her guiltily. "Was back on. They broke up again- Lavender accused Ron of mooning over you, and they got into a couple nasty rows." Hermione sighed- so much for hoping she would no longer affect Ron's love life. _

"_That's Ron and Lavender," she said with another sigh. "What about Seamus and Dean? Are they seeing anyone?"_

_Harry cracked a grin. "Don't get your hopes up, Mione," he said, winking at her. "They're seeing each other."_

"_I knew that," Hermione said with a roll of her eyes. "I was just wondering if they finally got their act together and stopped the 'best mates who share a two bedroom flat' thing yet. Honestly Harry, did you really not notice at all during fifth year?"_

"_Uh… no," Harry said, putting down his fork. "You did?" He looked at her, and shook his head. "Of course you did. You also noticed when I was pining after Cho, and Ginny-"_

"_And Katie, and Angelina," Hermione finished, standing up from the table. "How much time do you have here?" The clock read half past eight, and the sky outside was a deep bruised purple-black. _

_Harry checked his watch, and shrugged. "We leave the day after tomorrow. I can stay the night if you have an extra bed. Or couch. Either is fine."_

"_I have a guest bedroom," Hermione said quickly. "I'll get the bed ready for you. Pop in a film, would you?" She sent the dishes to the kitchen with a flick of her wand, then turned down a hallway. Harry watched her go, smiling softly before examining her movie collection. _

"_These are all in German!" he called out, riffling through the box. "Hermione?" The unfamiliar words were accompanied with unhelpful pictures, and he sighed. "Hermione?"_

"_I'm here," she said, walking over to look through the box. "You're right- darn. Do you want to watch a movie in German?"_

_He shrugged. "Or we can play Scrabble. I like Scrabble." But more to the point, he knew she loved Scrabble. His offer was accepted with a wide grin, and another foray into the linin closet for the game board. _

_They were halfway through the game when Hermione frowned. "You've hardly said anything about Ginny. How is she?"_

_Harry groaned as she laid down, 'Queenly.' It was Hermione, so of course she got the triple letter score on the 'Q.' "Bugger," he said._

_Hermione slapped his hand lightly. "Language, Harry," she said. "I asked, how is Ginny?"_

"_Fine," Harry said. "I told you we adopted a fish. His name is Arnold." He put down 'Reign,' smirking slightly. "Twenty-two points for me."_

_She stuck out her tongue, using his 'R' to write out 'Zipper.' "I always get the weird letters," she grumbled, but a small smile stayed on her face. True, she always got the strange letters, but it was also true she always figured out a way to use them. _

"_Poor you," Harry retorted. "I'm going to lose dreadfully. Happy?" Despite his words, he grinned disarmingly at her._

_She smirked, tucking an errant curl behind her ear with a gesture of careless grace. "Perfectly," she replied. "But speaking of Ginny, I have something for her. Would you mind?"_

_She had expected him to agree, but instead the Auror hesitated. "Could you send it to her?" he asked, eyes darting nervously. "Owl it, I mean. Or since you don't have an owl, mail it to her?"_

"_No," Hermione said, frowning. "I would rather you gave it to her- I want her to know that I think about her! She'd know it's true coming from you, because I can't tell her myself."_

_Harry stopped paying all attention to the game. "Or you could tell her yourself, Hermione. Come home." He knew his eyes were begging her and he hated it. But she was his best friend and he _needed _her. _

"_Don't change the subject, Harry," she snapped. "Why can't you give my gift to Ginny?" _

_Harry glared at her. "Because she doesn't know I'm here. No one knows I come and visit you, Hermione!" He was half yelling. _

_She paused, forehead wrinkling delicately in confusion. "Why? Doesn't Ginny ask where you go when you leave?"_

"_She thinks they're all business related," Harry said wearily. "I don't like lying to her, but I don't want her to know." He could imagine what Ginny would say, what she would think. The redhead had been sad when Hermione had left, and angry. But she had also been a little bit relieved, confiding to Harry that she had never really believed that nothing was going on between the two friends. Now that Hermione was gone, she no longer needed to worry. _

_Hermione was frowning in earnest now, standing up and wrapping the cardigan tighter around her shoulders. "And why is that, Harry?" He could see the pain in her eyes. _

"_For her sake," Harry answered immediately. "Ginny- you know how she is, 'Mione. She gets jealous."_

_There was a flash of understanding in her eyes. "So you don't tell Ginny you come and see me because you're afraid that she'll think you're cheating on her."_

_Harry nodded, half afraid Hermione would let a spell loose at him. "Yeah," he said. "She's always thought that you and I had something going on."_

_Hermione put a hand over her mouth, a small smile breaking through her stony face. "I'm not sure whether to laugh at that or hit you," she said, trying to stop her giggles. "Honestly!"_

"_Laugh," Harry told her solemnly. "It's better for both your health and mine. And I know we're- what was the word you always used?"_

"_Platonic," Hermione said, before breaking into a round of fresh giggles. "Gosh. Poor Ginny. She always thought we were dating?"_

"_Not really dating," Harry hedged, not liking where the conversation was going. "More like… friends. Very close friends." He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, raising one hand to run it through his hair. _

_Hermione sat down next to him on the couch, brown eyes still glowing with mirth. "You mean friends with benefits, right Harry?" She grinned knowingly as he blushed. "I'm not sixteen anymore, dearest."_

"_And that's another reason she thinks we're together!" Harry exclaimed. "Since Skeeter. And the whole thing we used to do to joke- calling each other 'love' and 'dearest.' It wasn't great for her, 'Mione."_

_Her face flashed guilty before going expressionless. "I'll stop, if it bothers you," she said, eyes turned down and away. "Harry."_

_He was tempted to accept her offer, but sighed and reached out, hugging her to his chest. "Sorry, love," he said, nuzzling her hair. "I know that when I say' I love you,' it means 'you've been with me through hell and high water and saved me from both,' and when you say 'I love you,' it means the same thing."_

_She sighed happily, relaxing into his embrace. "And Ginny? Does she know?" Inwardly, she hated herself a little for wanting to know. Harry, oh Harry. Her Harry. Her Harry, who loved Ginny. _

"_In her mind, yes," Harry said. "In her heart, she will always be suspicious. So…"_

"_I get it," sighed Hermione. "We're not telling Ginny. Neville sent me a letter saying he'd be on the Mediterranean in a few weeks. I'll ask him to give my gift to her. Will you be anywhere near France?"_

"_No," Harry said regretfully. "I'm back to England after this trip for at least a few weeks."_

_They lay together in silence for a while, until Hermione spoke again. "Time together is just never quite enough."_

"_I know," Harry said fondly. "But when it's just you and me, when we're alone, I've never felt more at peace. It feels like a real home."_

_Hermione hugged him tightly. "Were any of Ginny's suspicions ever correct? Did she have a reason to believe that you and I… All those little hints of love that she saw?"_

"_Once upon a time, maybe," Harry admitted. "But back then we needed time. We never got it, though. And we both moved on." He had noticed how she had blushed at peeked little glances at him for a time in fourth year. But back then he was socially awkward and the beautiful Cho Chang held his affections. And then Hermione had started going out with Viktor Krum and his chance had come and gone._

_Hermione stiffened slightly in shock. "Oh." Another pause, and she asked another question. "Do you think about me, at all? When you're at home in London?"_

"_Of course, Hermione!" Harry exclaimed, looking down at her, green eyes earnest. "It really isn't home without you. You and Ron and Ginny and Neville and Luna are my family and I hate it when you're gone."_

"_Do you ever wish we had fallen in love, Harry?" Hermione asked wistfully, tears starting somewhere in the corners of her eyes. _

_He nodded, regretfully. "All the time. It would have been so much easier…"_

* * *

><p>It was past three or four in the morning when Harry shuddered awake. He was alone on the couch, a blanket that had obviously been left him by Hermione kicked to the floor. The pillow she had eased behind his head was damp with the sweat of night terrors, and he could feel slight tremors in the large muscles of his legs.<p>

"Ugh," he groaned. He felt gross, he was sure he looked gross, and he could feel a Cruciatus attack coming. His insides were rolling, and his legs could barely support his weight as he stumbled to the bathroom, bracing himself on the sink.

His reflection looked scared out of his mind- nothing like the strong man who had saved the Wizarding world. Suddenly, something inside twisted and he let out a short grunt of pain. He needed to get to a open space- thrashing around Hermione's furniture would not be good.

Somehow he made it back to the living room, collapsing on the couch as a spasm rocked his body. He clenched his jaw; he would _not_ wake up Hermione.

But it was too late. Hermione appeared around the corner of the door, wrapped in that same short red robe from the night he broke it off with Ginny. One look at him, and she knew what was happening.

"When did the tremors start?" she asked, looking at him with quietly compassionate eyes.

He was struggling to breathe at that point. "About… Three or…. Four…. Minutes," he wheezed. "Sleeping-" He groaned, giving into another tremor. Hermione put one cool hand on his forehead, murmuring to him as he shuddered.

"Can you walk?" Hermione asked worriedly. "You should ride it out on my bed- it's big enough I made sure of that-" she helped him up and slowly, oh so slowly, the made their way through her halls to the bedroom.

It was nicely furnished, Harry thought somewhere in the back of his mind. Pretty. Blues and silvers, with dark wood. Then he was thrashing on the hastily vacated bed, holding back his groans when all he wanted was to scream.

At least he wasn't alone. Hermione was sitting cross-legged next to him, having changed quickly into sweat pants and an old t-shirt. She had his head on her lap, stroking his hair and murmuring things to him, just a human presence. Obedient, Harry though he saw her crying, but his vision was blurry without his glasses and even worse from the pain.

The pain- it's source, as far as his researchers had figured out, was the nerve endings damaged during the initial bout of the Cruciatus, combined with a psychological flashback to the event. The Cruciatus Curse was a two-fold spell: one half was physical, twisting and curling and splitting nerve ends and healing them just as rapidly. But the other- it crept in through the nerves, up past the spinal cord and into the brain. It made its way in through the primary and secondary somatosensory cortex and the hypothalamus, superior colliculus, and amygdala. It situated itself into the memory patterns, overrode normal memory patterns, and stayed. Dormant. Waiting.

Until the right- or rather, wrong- stimuli awakened the last vestiges of the curse, and it began anew. The pain was not as intense, was not as all-consuming as the initial curse, but it was similar. And long lasting. Harry's body was racked with pain, but, unlike the curse, it was not just possible to black out and go to a happy place. It was just severe enough to keep him on the edge of lucidness, and so he stayed.

It was almost noon when the shaking finally stopped. The pain was slower to go, lingering malignantly in his muscles and bones. But he sat up, shakily, and leaned against the pillows, Hermione's eyes following him carefully.

"Are you better?" she asked. She looked worn and haggard as well, from lack of sleep or stress, he didn't know. Her hair was pulled back into a messy pony tail, and her eyes seemed old and weary.

He took in an unsteady breath, looking around. "Yeah," he said, exhaling. "Yeah." She sighed in relief, hugging him tightly.

"I'm going to find a way to fix this, Harry," Hermione vowed, head pressed to his chest. "I'm going to find a way."

* * *

><p><strong>Alrighty: I want to know the usual: your thoughts, comments, and criticism. I love you all, I really do, but there is too much going on right now. Projects, tests, quizzes, HUGE projects, and Finals. Plus I'm the secretary of my Venture Crew, which means I need to plan campouts and activities. And then I need to worry about a host of other things… You get the picture. Summer is almost here, though! All I'm going is having Doctor Who marathons and volunteering at the Hospital (plus Summer HW) so I'll be able to write more.<strong>

**I love your reviews- we are over one hundred and going strong! I want to hear your opinions- every time someone reviews, they affect the writing process. If you want to see something in this, tell me! I'll consider it, and if I like it, incorporate it. **

**See ya next time, **

**ausland**


	10. Chapter 10

**Dear readers of PNNYM,**

**Well. I have some bad news. And I'm not really sure how to say this.**

**I was about three pages into Chapter 10, when I realized I really don't like this story. When I started it a year ago, I did no planning at all. None. Zip. And now, three pages into Chapter 10, I realize I have some major plot holes. MAJOR plot holes. **

**So I have a few options now. **

**Option 1: Scrap this story. This would be the easiest way out. I have come to realize that my characters are too under developed, and enormously unrealistic. I don't even like them! I did a really, really bad job with this story. **

**That leads me to Option 2: Major rewrite. Go through the entire thing, fix all my many mistakes, and change it completely. Correct plot holes, add more depth, figure out a plot. **

**So, I'm torn. I spent a long time writing this. It would bother me to see my work go to waste. But I also am of the opinion that this story is beyond saving. (Did I mention I have no plot? I didn't even plan it that far!)**

**I'm telling you this to let you know why there are not going to be any updates for a long, long while. I am still trying to decide if I should delete this story all together, or put the effort into saving it. That is where my readers come in. As far as I know, no one is particularly attached to this story. Help me judge this one. I don't know anyone on FF- I don't really know what the proper protocol for this is. **

**I can't PM. However, if you want to send me an email, it is ausland . ff **_**at**_** gmail. Or leave me a review. **

**I won't take this story away without any warning. I don't want to abandon it- so it is either rewrite the whole thing when I could be spending time on my other (better) stories, or scrap the entire thing. Tell me what you want- I'm not really doing this for me anymore, it's all for you. **

**Ausland**


	11. Author's Note

**Thank you. Really, thank you everyone. **

**I will rewrite the story, due to the overwhelming support that I received. Be warned - it will be a while. I decided to go through it slowly, planning ahead for once, and only in my spare time. I shall continue to focus on TWOT and 1995. **

**So keep this story on your alerts. It will change, all at once. That being said... can you please tell me your favorite parts? If it is not absolutely terribly wrong, I'll try to keep it in. I read a story once that was being rewritten that had my favorite part taken out, and I was really disappointed. Let me know!**

**Thank you,**

**ausland **


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